Ashes To Ashes
by Kalness
Summary: When supplies from the homestead go missing, Connor searches the forest for a trace of where they may have gone. When he stumbles across Shay, a woman thrown back in time from 2012, he finds himself entwined in forces that goes far beyond the Brotherhood. Shay herself is lost in what her role may be. Eventual Connor x OC. Rated for language/redcoat violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! This is my first fic in a very long time so I hope you forgive any mistakes/rustiness there may be. I've gone through several times so I hope this flows smoothly. Any critiques are welcome! As a note, I do not own anything from the Assassin's Creed franchise.**

Chapter 1

There was something about the wilderness that brought relief, freedom from his training and Achilles' constant criticism. Even assassins needed a day off once in a well in their relentless pursuit of justice for the wronged. The large trees that towered over the path leading from the homestead were lush with leaves. It was not quite fall yet, so most of them retained their green foliage. A gentle breeze carried the scents of the forest along the path and around the young assassin. Finally, there was such a thing as peace. Perhaps not peace for the nation, but he at least had a moment of it.

Or perhaps not for long.

"Connor! I do apologize, but I'm afraid there's a problem!" a feminine voice shrieked.

Inwardly groaning, Conner turned and saw Corrine hurriedly coming towards him. She looked quite flustered, her face flush and her skirts in a bit of a mess. Moving forward at a trot to meet her, the assassin gently grabbed her hands as she reached for his. "What is the matter? Does Oliver fare well?" he asked, mentioning her husband.

"Oh yes, Oliver is fine! The problem is my laundry seems to to go missing, and on more than one occasion! Connor, I think there are thieves in our homestead," the older woman gasped, her complexion becoming a little more fair as she calmed down.

Connor thought about this for a moment. It was probably some wild animal curious about their settlement. Racoons seemed often to blame for things going missing, or crows when the items were shiny. "I will keep an eye out, I promise," he assured her.

"Thank you, Connor. I can't imagine whoever it is has stuck around. I suppose if they need the clothes that bad they must be poor souls. I just wish they would have asked first," the inn keeper said sadly, releasing the assassin. "I must return, for Oliver will be worried."

With that, Connor watched her leave. It had been an unusual and brief conversation, so he tried to put it out of his mind as he resumed walking down the path out of the homestead. With the sun beating down on the back of his neck, illuminating his white robes, he quickly focused on something other than the needs of the homestead and settlers. Deer frolicked, teasing him as he drew near. That part of him that hid beneath his stoic and assassin facade began to surface, begging him to run the forest with them. Smiling to himself, he leaped up into a tree, barely feeling the rough bark underneath his leather gloves.

Achilles would probably scold him when he returned, going on and on about how the Templars were his first priority, but he needed this. Just for a moment.

Crouching, he leaped to another branch, running along it with grace and elegance that his large frame would not suggest otherwise. It was exhilarating to run amongst the treetops like a wild man. It was only a frustrated yelling that brought him to a halt.

Myriam walked below, her fists balled up at her sides as she stomped towards the homestead from her camp. Frowning, the assassin dropped neatly onto his feet behind her. "Is something the matter?"

The young woman about leaped out of her skin at the sound of his voice, "Connor, you nearly scared me out of my skin!" she scolded, tilting her head. "And in answer to your question, some of my nice skins and tools have gone missing! Particularly my favorite hunting knife." Her tone was irritated, her eyes gleaming.

Another person with items missing? Connor frowned as he pondered this. "Corrine the inn keeper has also complained about her items missing. I will investigate this, I promise," he said, knowing it was little consolation to someone who had just had their possessions swiped. However, Myriam seemed to readily accept this answer, her expression softening.

"Thank you, Connor. I cannot properly feed or warm our homestead without my tools and I do not wish to go all the way to Boston to get new ones," she said softly.

The assassin nodded, turning on his heel, "I'll let you know if I find something."

With that he quickly leaped into the trees and wandered back towards the inn. Perhaps he would be able to find some clues regarding this mystery.

ooooo

Her breath came out in pants, sick and frail. Survival had taken over, overloading her wiring with primal urges and instincts that most scientists thought had been thrown out of humans since their evolution into intelligent beings. As she had found, being thrown into a situation that was unfamiliar and lethal overrode any discipline and logical thought one possessed. The young woman crouched in the corner of a natural cave formation. Water dripped from the ceiling, providing her with a fresh stream along the side of the cave.

Nerves shaken from nearly being caught, she neatly placed her new tools on a shelf of rock for safe keeping. Across from it was a wad of blankets and sheets she had also managed to pluck from wealthier hands. Trousers that would normally be several sizes too big hung off of her, along with a white shirt that was stained green and brown from the rooting she had done earlier.

Perhaps she should reveal herself to civilization. The inn keeper seemed like a nice enough woman, humming as she put laundry out to dry, even greeting passerby merrily. Yet, this world was strange, though her own. She couldn't bring herself to openly leave the protection of the woods and open herself to harm. Lurking felt awkward, but it helped her retain her sense of humanity. Of course it was a little creepy, but that thought had long left her.

Instead the memory of that fateful day lingered in its place, haunting and teasing her. A good friend of hers, a scientist with a love for adventure that matched her own, invited her down to the lab to see his latest crazy invention. It was all corporate, of course. The government had no stake in this project, though Shay was a little surprised. The aim was to go back to when the earth was young to continue drilling for oil. The thought made Shay shake her head. After all, if you took the oil out of the past, then there would be none for the future. Of course oil executives did not think this way, and she was left with the urge to bang her head against a brick wall.

But, of course, she graciously accepted his invite. The two had entered the device so he could show her the knobs and bits that decorated the massive and ridiculous machine. It had not been economical in the least. Of course, Murphy's law stepped in and they had been catapulted into the past, leaving them stranded. None of her technology worked, of course, rendering her cell phone useless. All they had on them were their clothes and her Leatherman.

The multi-tool did wonders for her, but it had not been enough. Several days into their expedition, and endless fighting about appearing to the settlers, her friend had lost his life to the redcoats. Escaping with barely her life, she had managed to stumble into this cave, where at least there was the illusion of safety. Holding her face in her hands, the young woman forced herself to keep from weeping. No weakness, no pity, she forced her mind to focus. There could be no breaking.

Shay's head shot up at a noise outside of the entrance of the cave. The cave itself was not very deep, but she was far enough back to be hidden. Someone, she was sure from the footsteps, bent down and touched the dirt at the entrance. Panicked, she quickly scampered onto the shelf, clutching a hunting knife in her fist.

She pressed herself down, watching as a man entered. Though there was little light, she could make out his attire. Tall, much taller than herself, with white robes, heavy boots. The hood was pulled over his head, obscuring his face. He paused for a moment, cocking his head as if he heard something, but his face remained hidden. Taking a deep breath, she crept to the edge of the shelf, readying herself. She had never killed a man, only animals that she could get a hold of for food, and doubt began to taint her mind.

What if she missed? If she did, this man would kill her. He had enough to take four of her on and come out on top. Surprise was all she had.

Forcing herself to exhale quietly, she rose slightly, knife in hand. Three...two...one... She leaped with a growl that terrified even herself. Of course, malnutrition and illness slowed her movements, giving the man time to turn, grab her wrists, and slam her onto the ground. Breath left her lungs, leaving her chest aching as her dazed mind struggled back to focus. Adrenaline shot through her veins as she struggled, but the grip was too tight. Eventually, her hand became numb and dropped the knife with a clatter to the cavern floor.

Yet, she could not bring herself to plead.

Instead the man snarled in return, pinning her to the ground. "What are you doing here?" he growled, never loosening his grip.

Shay whimpered softly, but held onto to her stubbornness. "I was not aware you owned these caves," she tried to growl, though it came out more like the mewl of a cub.

Dragging her to her feet, the man pushed her towards the entrance, kicking the knife out of the way. Shay squinted as she was forced out into the light, her disheveled appearance even more obvious. The clothes hung off her awkwardly thin frame, her brown hair knotted and a general rat's nest, and the pale pallor of her skin, indicating illness.

"It is not the caves I want, it is the items you stole," the man's gruff voice made her cringe. Stole was such an ugly word. She would have preferred "borrowed".

Connor observed her for a moment, deciding she was not a redcoat or Templar by the unhealthy appearance she had. Surely no one in that situation would be out here withering away under the pretense of a helpless wanderer. Narrowing his eyes, he tilted his head again as he looked her over from the shroud of his hood.

"Is it help you need? All you had to do was ask," he quipped.

Shay did her best to straighten, her wrists still aching from the iron grip he had had them in. Though she was normally prideful, it was not her ego that refused help. It was the fact she wasn't from this century, or even this area in her own time. Grimacing, she sat down on a large rock, noting he made no attempt to stop her.

"My reasons are my own, sir. I doubt many, if anyone, would understand my situation," she answered slowly, picking her words carefully. To change the past was to change the future, and she did not want any part of that ball of wax. If anything, she worried about her mother, and how she was faring in knowing her daughter was missing.

The assassin sneered slightly. "You are not in a position to negotiate," he pointed out, regarding her with his dark brown eyes. If she could see those eyes she'd probably melt.

"No, I suppose not. I apologize, but I am hungry, sick, and cold. I'm sure you understand why I am not in the mood to be interrogated."

Connor snorted softly and took this statement with a grain of salt. "What is your name, then?"

Shay paused, thinking carefully of her answer. Lying could lead to disaster, but so could the truth. Hesitantly, she spoke, "Shay." No more than that. "And yours?"

The assassin was slightly taken aback by her forwardness, though he had to admit it almost amused him. This woman was behaving like a wounded predator. Fiesty, and unwilling to go down even in the face of defeat. "Connor," he said simply. "Let me take you back to the homestead. You can apologize to the people you stole from, perhaps work off your debt. Then we will make sure you are well and equipped before you go on your way."

That had been almost too easy. Shay had been afraid that he was going to kill her, but mercy was still part of this predator's vocabulary. Though the thought of working off what he considered debt was slightly terrifying. Then again, the thought of a warm bed and food was also enticing. Perhaps it would not hurt to get stocked up and healthy again. Then she could try to find a way back to her time.

"I appreciate your generosity, Connor. Lead the way," she said softly, struggling to rise from the rock.

The fight-or-flight reflex was strong, but she forced it down and held onto what humanity she had left. This man could possibly lead her to her death...yet, he also held the promise of life.

**Okay, that's it for this one! Please let me know what you think and if I should continue. As I said, I'm a little rusty. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I know I am posting this a little quick after the first chapter. I wanted to get it up, as my doctor has declared me ready to go back to work next week. My fiance and I were in a car accident a few weeks ago, and naturally the bug bit me when I had a week before work.**

**I was surprised at the response to the fic (not in a negative way), with many favorites and watches. Thank you to all! And thanks to everyone who gave input and critique! I took them all under careful consideration when I was writing this chapter. **

**NinjaxSketcheartx made a great point about modern day people vs 18****th**** century, so I did my best to build on that.**** I got so wrapped up in not wanting to make a Mary Sue I got a little sidetracked, but that is what reviews are for! So, thank you so much for the feedback, I appreciate it :) **

**I also tried to do a little bit of research about practices during this time, as my colonial era American history is a little rusty. Once again critique is appreciated! Enjoy!**

**I do not own any part of the Assassin's Creed franchise, just Shay.**

Chapter 2

The journey back to the homestead had been agonizingly slow. The assassin had not realized the extent of the young woman's illness. She was thin, yes, with a staggered gait, but she seemed otherwise unharmed. Nothing food and medicine would not cure. The urge to ask her a billion questions lingered on the tip of his tongue, but discipline drove it back. Compassion was still part of his oath, and he tried to show something like it as he watched the young woman stumbled up an embankment. Her breath came in huffs, her face a little green from the effort. With a small hop and skip, he was at the top of the hill, hand extended to help her up.

When she didn't take it immediately he grabbed her by the arm and heaved her up. Shay took this opportunity to sit down, breathing slow to calm her racing heart. She wasn't sure how long they had been walking, but it felt like an eternity. On top of it all she began to feel extremely vulnerable. He had stripped her of all of her possessions, including her phone. It had all of her pictures on it: pets, family, and moments with her friends. If he crushed it all the hope she had left would go with it. The last pictures of her beloved dog had also been mixed in, and she hadn't had time to put them on her computer back home. Perhaps that was why she had put up such a protest as he turned it over in his hand. Jiffy, a fawn colored Pembroke Corgi, had been her pet since she was a little girl. It was only recently that he passed, and those pictures never failed to bring a smile to her face.

She only breathed a sigh of relief when he put it in one of his various pouches. At least for now it would be safe and she could negotiate for it to be given back when she had more strength. As she sat on the soft grass, she wondered if that machine could have given her a few more moments with him. That machine had the potential to do a lot. At the same time, it also was a recipe for disaster. Her appearance in this time would no doubt change life for somebody in the future. What did the corporations honestly think they would gain from this contraption? Trevor, her friend, had kept much from her, brushing off any questions with "It's classified." Apparently not_ that_ classified, as he had eagerly dragged her into his lab like a kid at Christmas.

He treated that contraption like it was his child. She felt as if something more was going on, but she pushed it away. If something was truly wrong, morally or otherwise, Trevor would have said something. He would have confided in her, for they had been childhood friends. His memory brought that bitterness into the back of her throat, the tears pricking at the edges of her eyes. His loss fueled her anger, made her want revenge, even though she knew this war would be won by the patriots. Keeping the tears at bay, she glanced up at the man.

He was staring at her, watching for any sign of rebellion. That made Shay want to laugh nervously. She couldn't outrun him if she tried in this condition. Her heart wouldn't stop racing, her skin clammy from the sweat drying on her skin.

"We are wasting daylight," he said roughly, leaving little room for complaint.

"I-I'm trying," she stuttered, trying to keep the tears back. Perhaps earlier the adrenaline in her system had made her bold and fiesty, but now she felt terrified and weak. The severity of her situation was coming into focus as this stranger led her further into a forest she was unfamiliar with. Yet, death was not what frightened her. It was what this stranger may be capable of. So far he had been patient, though a little curt, and had never laid a hand on her negatively.

She heard him snort softly as he took a step back to give her some space. Thank goodness he did, as she immediately rolled onto her hands and knees and vomited into the brush. Nothing but water and bile came up, leaving her humiliated and even more frightened than before. His disgruntled sigh didn't help the situation as she weakly conjured up what was supposed to be a glare. Despite any irritation he may have felt, Connor handed her a cloth to wipe her face and a flask of water to rinse her mouth out.

"Thank you," she mumbled.

"You are more ill than I thought. Come, we will get you a doctor," he said simply, brushing aside her thanks. His hand gently rested against her back as he helped her to her feet. That hand helped anchor her into reality as she took another stumbling step forward. Her stomach cramped in a spasm, making her gag again. Thankfully nothing else came up, sparing her even more embarrassment.

They continued at the same sluggish pace until they broke free of the line of trees. The settlement was not massive by any means, but it still was large. People bustled around carrying small logs, tools, clothing, food, pretty much anything a settlement would need. Glancing around nervously, Shay's knees began to buckle and the urge for flight was even stronger than before. She jerked back, but Connor quickly grabbed her wrist and dragged her further out of the forest and into the homestead.

Panic and fear flooded her mind, clouding her vision and judgment as she heard more voices coming towards her. The lady with the laundry was closest, then the lumberjacks, and the huntress. Trembling, she glanced between them all, Connor stepping behind her to create a sort of circle.

"Why, who do you have there, Connor? The dear is shaking like a mouse," the lady she recognized as the one she had stolen the laundry from piped up.

"This is your thief. I found her in the forest with all of the stolen supplies. I will be going to retrieve them in a moment. She is ill, and requires some attention," Connor said simply, inclining his head slightly again.

The fight seemed to have left this strange woman as the last of the adrenaline left her. He watched her shake, step hesitantly back, and made sure he was in the way if she decided to turn and run. If she did she would run right into him. The mountain lion he had perceived at first had vanished, leaving a deer in its wake. The woman looked like she would faint, a prey amongst the wolves.

"She has agreed to help around the homestead to repay what she has done. Do you wish me to stay while she is looked at, or may I go grab the supplies?" he asked easily.

"No, dear, we will be just fine. We will get her cleaned up in a jiffy and see if there is anything the doctor can give her," Corrine said, smiling. "The poor thing looks terrified, I hope you were not too rough."

Connor did not answer, but merely shook his head as he turned to stride back into the trees.

"He is such a help. Come, let us get you cleaned up and looked at. Then we can talk some."

The way these people reacted to the charge of theft made her nervous. There seemed to be anger in some of their faces, but Corrine was not challenged. Shouldn't they be yelling, cursing, even spitting at her? Theft in these times was not dealt with lightly, though she was thankful she wasn't in a country that would cut her hand off for the crime as was the case in some civilizations. Grunting, she allowed Corrine to steer her towards the mansion that towered above everything else. That was the moment she had been waiting for, a break in people, and she took it.

With the grace of a dying gazelle, Shay pulled away and broke for the tree line. She felt the boost adrenaline gave as a new found strength surged through her limbs. The safety of the forest wasn't far away, and she felt a sense of victory as she crossed the shadowed line. She felt invincible, liberated, as she took a few more strides. The yelling in the settlement had begun to diminish the further she got. She should have known that this was too good to be true.

As she turned a corner she ran smack into a wall of solid muscle. The momentum threw her backwards onto a dirt path frequented by the wildlife. Towering over her was a less than merciful man. Damn, he was good.

"So troublesome," he growled as he heaved her up and over his shoulder. "I should have known." He berated himself under his breath as he carried the exhausted woman back to Davenport. As he emerged from the trees, the group noticed him and came running.

"Oh, thank goodness you caught her. I suppose fear does that to one," Corrine said, sighing as Connor strode towards the mansion.

"I am sorry I did not stay. I will wait until she is properly taken care of before I retrieve the supplies," he said, pushing his hood back from his face. He considered it rude to wear it around the homestead. This was his home, not a city like Boston where being incognito was valuable. With one hand, he turned the knob and pushed the large wooden door open effortlessly. As he walked into the entrance way he was met by his mentor, hobbling along like he always did.

"What is with all of the racket? Who is that you're carrying, Connor?" he asked, eying his pupil with interest.

"She has been stealing supplies from the homestead. I found her in a cave not far away from here, but she decided to try and run," the assassin answered, a grimace curving the edges of his lips.

"I see. Well, set her down with a little more dignity than a sack of potatoes and we'll see what this is all about," Achilles said, motioning to one of the couches in the living area.

"She smells worse than a sack of potatoes," Connor mumbled to himself, earning a weak boot to the stomach as Shay innocently shifted in his grip. Carefully, he lowered her down onto the couch, finally allowing her to see his face.

It was a handsome face, she would not lie. He looked to be about her age with mocha skin, heavy brown eyes, and an angled face. Perhaps under other circumstances she may ask him to go out for a drink, but that was highly inappropriate at the moment. His dark hair was pulled back into a small pony tail, accenting his face. As soon as he noticed her looking she immediately turned her gaze down to the ground.

"Now, what seems to be the problem?" Achilles asked, sitting down in a chair across from her.

"She stole some supplies from the homestead. Clothes, blankets, and tools from what it looks like," Connor said, tilting his head as the doctor bustled in.

At that moment it occurred to Shay that doctors were not trained professionals in this era. They were often apprentices with little practice and awful remedies. If she didn't die by a man's sword here, surely the doctor would kill her. Nervously, she scooted away from him on the couch as he did his examination under Connor's watchful eye. Fever was present, vomiting, no sores or open wounds. Perhaps just a cold, certainly not a life threatening disease. He clucked his tongue in thought as he tilted her head this way and that, listening to her heart rate.

"It seems she is ill from exposure. Doesn't seem to be sign of liquid in the lungs. I can bleed her a little bit and then I will leave a potion of herbs for her to drink," he said, satisfied he had finished.

At this, Shay paled. "N-No, I am j-just fine I assure you. You do not need to..._bleed_ me," she insisted, pulling her arm away from him as he grabbed a surgical tool. Who knew what diseases she could get from that crude scalpel. The sanitation process was very...behind, and whatever was on that blade would gladly make a home in her body.

The doctor eyed her for a moment, but put the tool back into his bag. "Very well, then. I will leave these herbs with you. Boil them in water together and drink the whole mixture, about a cup, twice a day. That should put you on the road to healing. Also, bed rest for a couple of days and some hot broth in your body wouldn't hurt," he said stiffly, obviously offended by her refusal of his services.

Shay inwardly sighed in relief as he placed a pouch of herbs in her hands. "Yes, thank you sir," she mumbled as he stomped out of the living room.

Connor peered at her for a second, narrowing his eyes. She was quick to deny assistance of the most current practices, but the source of her fear was hidden from him. What was with this woman?

"So, why did you steal our supplies?" Achilles asked. Connor remembered her rebuke earlier about her own personal reasons. He hoped that now that she was in the company of other people she would open up under the pressure of so many. Corrine had joined them in the room, now gazing at the young woman on the couch.

Shay hesitated, keeping uncertainty from her blue eyes. To tell them the truth was a one way ticket to harm, possibly jail. She was certain mental wards did not exist yet, and jail was one place she did not wish to go. The pressure of so many eyes on her made her want to cry, but the truth could not be revealed.

"I-I've been on my own. I was cold and hungry. I needed something to help," she stuttered, pressing herself into the couch as if she could just melt into it and be invisible.

"You took no food or weapons, only hunting tools and clothing," Connor objected, raising an eyebrow.

"Well I..." Shay hesitated again. "I didn't want to steal your food, that's all. Everyone else has to eat." Her cheeks flushed as Connor's gaze hardened.

"Why not ask?" he pressed.

Now it was feeling like an interrogation, and Shay was beginning to sweat. "I don't know who you are..." she shot, but his gaze immediately drove away any boldness that had crept up.

The assassin seemed to accept that answer as he glanced over at Achilles. The old man was gently tapping his index finger against the top of the cane. His gaze seemed to go right through her, making her feel transparent and fake. "Well, Connor tells me that you have agreed to pay your debt through work. The supplies will be returned, of course. After you are feeling better we will sort that part of it out. For now Corrine will help you wash and dress for bed." He rose, hobbling out of the room.

Defeated, Shay slumped forward into Corrine's hands. Fear had begun to recede after her mind began to logically tell her that all was well here. There would be no violence for now. She rose and stumbled up the stairs with Corrine to get settled in. Perhaps this would give her time to think of a way to get home.

ooooo

"Something is bother you, Connor," Achilles said simply, looking at the young assassin.

The young native hesitated slightly, not wanting to just spill his guts to his mentor. It was somewhat personal, yet it seemed almost...deceitful to keep all of it from the other man. He owed Achilles a lot, for the man had taken him in, trained him. Of course, it all came with Connor nagging him until he gave in. That didn't matter, though.

"I found this on her when I disarmed her," he said, taking the cell phone out of his pouch. It was a little black box, slim, and felt quite fragile in his hand. "She threw a fit when I looked it over and was about to toss it out. What if she is a Templar spy? It does not add up."

Achilles took this in, pausing for a moment. "You think she is a threat?"

"I...am not sure. She is odd, has odd possessions, and she doesn't want to talk about where she is from or what she is doing. Surely no one stays in a cave for fun," the young assassin added.

"Perhaps. We will keep an eye on her for now, and deal with it as it comes." Achilles gently touched Connor on the shoulder, knowing full well the native did not like to be touched. He even chuckled lightly as Connor instinctively pulled away. "Where are you headed?" he asked as Connor turned towards the door, hand resting on the knob.

"I have to get the supplies, and I am going to see the Clan Mother," he answered simply.

He did not want to admit it to his mentor, but he had been having odd dreams that repeated every few nights. Normally it was of his village burning, his mother dying. This time it was of a woman. She was healthy, radiant even. All of the animals in her presence stilled, never fighting even with each other. He was unsure of what it all meant, and talking to the Clan Mother would help. She would have answers.

"Try to be back by dark, then," Achilles said quietly.

With that Connor nodded and left.

**Okay! We'll leave it there. I rewrote this chapter three times and I think this is the one that I liked the best out of all of them. It seemed more...stable I guess? Anyways, any comments/critiques/questions welcome! Next chapter should pick up a little bit and get more into what is going on here.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks everyone for the reviews/watches/favorites! I really appreciate it, and it has certainly brightened my flu-filled week. I am going to try to update once a week. My plans usually never go as I want them to so we will see if this actually happens xD So here's the next chapter, enjoy! Any comments/critiques welcome.**

**I do not own any part of the Assassin's Creed franchise.**

"When all becomes clear, truth will appear, forever a debt for you and me." - Sacrimony by Kamelot

Chapter 3

_The darkness was suffocating, blotting out the once brilliant and vibrant moon. It pressed in on all sides, creating a feeling of claustrophobia. Then, in the distance, a light bobbed up and down. It shimmered with a purpose, giving the world the dangerous feeling of hope. It radiated through her as she forced her weak legs to move. As she drew closer the path became more distinct, made of dirt that was stained with dark patches. No one needed to tell her what those patches were made of. Bodies began to litter the sides of the pathway. A strong sense of nausea rose up in her throat, her stomach flopping like a whale. The further she walked, the more brutal the deaths became. Men, wearing both red and blue, lay in heaps. She gagged at the stench of decay. _

_What was going on? In the midst of the death and destruction a figure crouched in the light clutching a tomahawk tightly in his fist. It was the bright white light so many writers portrayed as purity. She recognized the man immediately, the white robes stained with fresh and dried blood iconic. His head was bowed, every line in his form rigid and tense. Whether it was from grief or anger, she could only guess. His plight made her feel an anguish she was unfamiliar with. Why should someone have to suffer so? _

_As she walked into the light she felt an instantaneous calm, peace. His gaze tilted up towards her, but there was nothing beneath the hood, just an overwhelming blackness. Yet, she felt no fear. Instead she chose to kneel before him, her head bowed as she grasped his gloved hands. The tomahawk fell silently to the ground, something that shouldn't have been possible but in a dream. His left hand returned the grip as his right moved up to brush gently across her cheek. There was no sensation; no heat, no cold, not even the smoothness of leather. _

_The light around them dimmed, shimmering ominously as a bulkier form came forward. She could distinctly make out a horse and rider from the silhouette. The light no longer shone around them, but behind the other figure. It made her nervous, and enraged the man in front of her. He quickly stood, pushing her behind him. His hands quickly and skillfully retrieved a dagger from his hip, brandishing it towards the larger silhouette. She immediately reached out to him, pulling him back a few steps. Something unexplainable boiled up in her. The world needed this man, and she couldn't let him be killed. _

"_The one who will protect humanity, he is vital to our survival. Stay his hand, guide him, protect him from himself." The voice whispered so softly she almost didn't hear. It was not eerie, but motherly, giving her a sense of urgency. _

_As if she had seen rather than heard the plea, she pushed him back, placing herself between him and the threat. The blow she expected did not come. Instead the ground gave way, turning a blinding white as the world dematerialized. She fell through, trying to scream, but no sound came. Instead it was just blissful silence. "Please..."_

ooooo

At first she had no wish to get out of bed. The disgusting concoction of herbs and broth had made her want to pull the blankets over her head and never come out. Whenever Corrine would brew it up, Shay would tell herself that she was going to refuse, fight back. However that quickly left as soon as Corrine's mothering behavior made her swallow her pride and the nasty potion. She would rather die a thousand deaths than drink that stuff anymore. Connor had come to visit occasionally to make sure she was staying out of trouble, or so he said. Little did he seem to realize that a leap from this height would most likely break her bones. She had no training whatsoever jumping that kind of distance. The dream had never fully left her mind, coming up several more times in the week and a half that followed.

Every time it came back she would wake screaming, drenched in sweat and eventually calming into rapid breathing. A few times Connor had come bursting through the door, alarmed and with that familiar tomahawk in his hand. Of course, the first time she had screamed only louder, irritating him and waking half the damn neighborhood. Achilles had not been particularly happy, berating the both of them until their ears were ringing. Now the young native simply pushed the door open to make sure there weren't any Templar soldiers lurking under the bed with his trusty tomahawk. How sweet.

The morning after Shay would make a point of avoiding him if possible, embarrassed about her outbursts. Thankfully she had regained some strength by this point, and was sweeping the pathway to the mansion with vigor. She had a few more chores to do for the day before she could call it quits. Her hosts seemed to think so fresh air and time to herself in the boundaries of the homestead seemed to be a good reward for finishing chores. That didn't entail a lot, so most evenings were spent in the barn with the horses or in the library reading.

Years out of high school had made her forget exactly how difficult old English could be. Today she decided she wanted to go to the barn and brush the horses down. This was usually the stable hand's job, but he would indulge her girlish love for the large beasts by leaving at least one dirty by the end of the day.

She began to sing softly as she swept, "Remember my name, and paint the darkness with your light. Go sing your song for all the brokenhearted, like Eden echoes in my head..."

Connor had begrudgingly given her back her phone, which had been turned on in moments of the night when homesickness struck. The battery was at twenty-five percent, but it was enough for a song before going to sleep. For now this would help her sanity, if only a little. Shay was definitely not gifted with a singing voice, but no one was out here, so she figured the windows on the mansion would hold and everyone would be none the wiser.

The crunching sound of boots on gravel stilled the song in her throat as she glanced up to see the assassin walking towards her calmly. His hood was not up, something she had grown used to after their little escapade in the forest. She raised an eyebrow as he halted in front of her.

"Good afternoon," she said tensely.

It was Connor's turn to raise an eyebrow as he maintained a little bit of distance. "I need you to come with me to my village. Clan Mother wishes to speak to you," he said.

She immediately stopped sweeping the path, looking up at him. "At this moment?"

"Yes, it is of great importance."

"I'm sorry, but I have to finish my...punishment for the day, or Achilles might rip me a new one," she said bitterly.

The assassin raised a brow even further, keeping the smirk from his face. "Well, if you hadn't stolen our things you wouldn't be out here sweeping like a maid," he pointed out, the right edge of his lips curving upward. As he had found over the course of the week, Shay was extremely fun to poke fun at, and her reactions were even more amusing. This stoic young man did have a sense of humor, even if it was hidden below a layer of serious.

The young woman narrowed her eyes at him. This was already embarrassing enough, being caught in the woods, dragged out into a possible hostile situation, and forced into a colonial era dress with a broom in hand. The young native seemed to enjoy taking advantage of her awkward situation, making slight comments or simply smiling at her. "Well...I..." she started, the thought slipping away as quickly as it had come.

She looked down at the ground, causing the side of his lip to rise even more. "Once again, Achilles will rip me a new one. I have to finish sweeping, help Corrine with some chores at the inn, and cook dinner," she forced out.

"I will speak to Achilles. It is very important that you come. I would also suggest changing clothes," he raised his hand and made a motion to brush away her concern.

Shay sighed softly, "Alright, I will go change. Here, hold this." She thrust the broom into a bewildered Connor's hands before walking into the mansion.

The assassin stared after her as she disappeared into the doorway. That woman was a piece of work, unsteady in conversation, but retaining that spark of defiance and strong will. She was a bit of a mystery, and it bugged him. There weren't any signs of Templar activity anywhere near the homestead, but he still didn't trust her. If she was up to nothing then surely she would give some information about herself. This seemed not to be the case, as he had not even heard a peep of what city she came from.

On top of everything the Clan Mother wanted to meet this strange girl. Even though he protested bringing Shay anywhere close to the village, she insisted. The Clan Mother had hinted that is was important, that this girl was worth something. This he was inclined to doubt. Perhaps she was worth a poke in the eye, but not much more than that. Although her attitude towards him had improved slightly since the return of that odd black box. He could swear he even heard the voices of others in her room at night, but he gave that notion up to the probability of nightmares.

A couple of minutes later she emerged in simple brown pants, a white shirt, and boots. They were a nice back up Corrine had slipped her when the older woman learned of her nightly stable visits. Her hair was even pulled up into a tight pony tail to keep it out of her face.

She eyed Connor slightly as she descended the short stack of stairs, hesitating at the way he watched her. "Ready when you are," she mumbled.

After a moment he inclined his head and began to walk towards the woods, expecting her to follow. He was no longer worried about an escape attempt on Shay's part. After the first incident she had become more mild mannered and did as she was asked, even if she did watch them like they were a pack of wolves.

He glanced over his shoulder to see the young woman following him. "Shouldn't I have a knife, or something-?" she asked.

"No," he cut her off.

"What if we come across a bear, or a pack of wolves?" she pointed out, pulling up just behind him.

The young assassin stopped for a moment. "Then I will protect you."

At this Shay held back a glare. "I can defend myself," she protested.

"Yes, because you weren't dying when I found you in that cave," Connor snipped back as he started walking again.

That comment stung a little bit. Shay groped around for a retort but came up empty handed, choosing to follow him silently instead with her head down. Connor seemed satisfied at this as he stepped off the beaten path and into the frontier.

ooooo

It took a good hour to get to the young man's village. Connor had thwarted any questions she threw his way with one sentence replies, if that. It was as if he was a brick wall, strong, silent, and utterly boring. Almost instantly Shay began to feel self conscious, staring at the tall walls of rough wooden spikes. They were meant to keep everything out, and she felt inclined to do just that. However, Connor left little room for argument as he motioned towards the entrance to the village. She knew nothing of their customs, nothing of their language, and she was about to just prance in there with no idea of what she was doing. Annoyed with her reluctance, Connor put his hand against her back and gently steered her into the village.

Dogs were lounging, some playing with a group of children. Their squeals and screams were universal, along with the giggles and smiles. Adults watched over them while working, whether it was treating skins, cooking, or making baskets and clothing. All at once it seemed the adults' eyes drifted up towards her, staring with uncertainty. A lump shoved its way into her throat as she stuck close by Connor's side, nearly brushing up against him in an effort to not be left behind. He directed her into a large wooden enclosure.

An elderly woman stood with a large walking stick in her hands. A fire burned peacefully in the center, creating a pleasant warmth and smoky smell. "_Ah, __Ratonhnhaké:ton, you have returned,_" she said pleasantly, motioning for them to sit.

"_I have brought the young white woman as you have asked,_" he replied, sitting beside Shay with his head bent respectfully.

"_A dream came to me, Ratonhnhaké:ton, about this girl. The spirits told me to bring her here and to present her with our secret. They say she has her own place in our world. Please, give her the box and __let her experience the spirits,_" the elderly woman made another gesture towards a box.

Connor rose and retrieved it steadily, presenting the box to Shay, "The Clan Mother says you must open the box and take the orb inside."

This whole time Shay had been looking nervously between the two. It was much like standing amongst a group of foreigners, wondering if they were talking about you or if they were merely having a conversation amongst themselves about the weather. Something told her that they were discussing something important, but the four years of Spanish she took in high school would definitely not help her here. Not even an inkling of conversation.

Uneasiness marked each movement as she shakily opened the lid to the box he held strongly. Inside a padded orb shone up at her. It was slightly translucent with gold detailing its reflective surface. She gave Connor one more uneasy glance before taking it in her hand. A light as bright as in her dream flashed, blinding her temporarily. As it died spots clouded her vision, forcing her to blink rapidly. It was like staring at a glowing light bulb and then looking into the darkness – disorienting. Shaking her head, she tilted her head up in time to see a woman appear before her. What was this witchcraft? The woman must have been beautiful at one time, her hair long and brunette, her dress swirling a shimmering white.

"You have come," the woman spoke.

"Who...who are you?" Shay asked, rising, unaware that Connor and the elderly woman were watching her every move. They could not see the woman Shay saw, but knew just as well who she was.

"I am Juno. I am the one who knows what is in store for you," the woman replied, pushing her hair back before clasping her hands in front of her.

"What is this? This is a technology that no civilization could have created. Magic, witchcraft, as many know it." Shay began to move restlessly, watching Juno carefully.

"This is the Nexus. Yes, this technology is not from these times. We came before all the rest, a civilization much like the one you come from, but we were much stronger."

Shay snorted. Apparently not that much stronger, for there was no trace of them in her time, only this artifact apparently. "Then what happened?"

"Now is not the time for that. You have seen your path before, yet I can sense a reluctance. You don't want to believe it is real, but it is. This young man is the one who will stop the Templars from progressing in this country for now, and you must be a voice of reason for him. He is headstrong, stubborn, and at times reckless." Juno tilted her head as Shay shook her head.

_Trust me, I see the headstrong and stubborn_ she thought to herself. "So this was all preordained? I was meant to come to this time, stuck and alone?"

"Everything happens for a reason, but yes."

"And what about Trevor? He had to die so I could come stop this?" Shay could feel the anger rising in her throat as her free hand clasped into a fist. Why did he have to die, leaving her alone to fend for herself? They were best friends and now she was having to fly solo for this. He was her wing man. Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes at the thought of him.

"Your friend was tangled up in something he didn't understand. He was being used, and so his death was necessary," Juno confirmed, bowing her head slightly.

"What do you mean used?" Shay demanded, raising her voice slightly. She forgot herself, forgot that she was speaking to someone from centuries ago.

Juno, however, did not seem to take offense to the rude outburst. "Everything will be learned in time, but I must insist that you keep this young man safe. Whatever sacrifice your friend made was necessary, and it was for you and the world."

"Not on his own free will!" Shay spat, scowling.

"No, perhaps not. Just remember, he is the key and if he fails then so shall the world fall into darkness and despair. Good luck."

With that there was another bright light and then darkness.

Connor had set down the box earlier, reaching out to catch Shay as she collapsed, the orb still clutched safely in her hand. He had not heard her heated debate with the spirit, but he could tell by her facial expressions it had not been pleasant. Lowering her, he gently laid her against the ground. She would need to rest and then they would be on their way to the manor.

He grimaced and took off his robes to cover her before sitting beside the Clan Mother. The elderly woman gently patted his hand and stared into the fire.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the reviews everybody! Welcome to all of the new followers as well. Hopefully a little more of Shay's personality comes out in this chapter now that she grows more comfortable in her situation. Is anyone interested in becoming a sort of beta reader? I find the more I write and re-write I miss holes and such. If anyone is interested, send me a PM here. Anyways, enjoy!**

**I do not own anything in the Assassin's Creed franchise.**

Chapter 4

There was nothing, a simple and blissful darkness. It felt as if she was floating, secured and cushioned by her unconscious mind. There was no need to worry or be bothered with reality. It was an escape, one that she desperately needed. There were too many unanswered questions, too many things to worry about. Here there was simply nothing. As with everything else it came to an end, but this time with an orange flickering light. The fire was a beacon for her throbbing head as she brought up a hand to shield her eyes. Goosebumps covered her arms, causing her to shiver as she fought the nausea that twisted her stomach.

Then the heat of the fire slammed into her, causing a thin layer of sweat to her skin. Unfortunately this was an era without aspirin, and she was going to have to walk this one off. Grabbing her head she sat up, only to hear someone talking. It was a rapid speech in a tongue she didn't understand. Thankfully it was somewhat distant. The headache dulled to a throbbing pain, though the relief was short lived.

Memories of her conversation with Juno began to come flooding back in a tsunami of anger, grief, and uncertainty. She didn't ask to be thrown into this mess, yet here she was amongst the beginning of the Revolution. Now she was a long way from home, alone, and charged with overseeing a young man determined to save a nation. _Why do I need to watch over him? He is a big boy, he can sure as hell take care of himself and make big boy decisions_ she thought to herself bitterly as she staggered to her feet.

The sound of heavy footsteps caught her attention, glancing up only to see Connor walking in. He had his robes on again, neatly strapped together in one harmonious ensemble. The way he held himself made him intimidating. He raised a brow, regarding her with an impatient stare. "Are you ready to leave?" he asked, that impatience underlying in his tone.

"Just...give me a moment," she breathed, raising a hand and waving him off with it.

"We waste daylight," he insisted.

"Yes, well, you could have carried me back to the homestead, so hold your horses and be patient," she growled, rubbing her forehead.

Connor seemed taken aback by the sudden attitude, his eyes narrowing as he watched her take a few stumbling steps. Despite any reservations he had against her, the instinct he had to help anyone who needed it reared its head. He stepped forward and grasped her elbow, steering her towards the wall to balance against. What surprised him even more was when her hand clasped onto his forearm to assist in the steadying.

"Ugh, did you feel like this after you touched the orb?" she asked, blinking rapidly to clear her fogging vision.

"What makes you think I've touched it?" he asked defensively.

"Because you knew exactly what box to grab and where it was located," she replied, giving him a look.

Connor snorted softly, hesitating as she stumbled forward another stride. "Yes, I did. Just give it a moment and it will wear off," he said reluctantly.

"Well, as long as I don't have to drink another one of that doctor's homemade remedies I'm sure I will be just fine," she joked easily, her stomach cramping at the thought of that disgusting thick drink. She grimaced and let go of Connor's arm, now walking shakily on her own. "I'm good. I really am," she insisted, stepping into the sunlight.

The light was almost intolerable. Blinking rapidly did little to help as spots began to form in her vision. Fantastic. Shaking her head slowly, she emerged into the world once again, a little more worse for wear than when she had gone in. A pair of hands grabbed hers, pulling her further out into the open. They were soft feminine hands, foreign and unfamiliar. The voice at the end of those arms was also foreign, talking rapidly. As the world came into focus, the face of a young woman appeared. She was beautiful, with a darker complex than Connor's. Her eyes were large and brown, something Shay would assume many called doe eyes. Her face was softer than Connor's, but retained a slight sharpness to it.

The woman continued to talk at her, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Shay had no idea what she was saying. Instead, she glanced to Connor for help. "This is _Saheli._ She has been interested in you since your arrival," he said simply.

"Oh...um, nice to meet you," Shay said uncertainly, glancing back to the young woman.

As if it were natural, the young woman blended her voice from her native language into English. "You are very different from the other white people. They all speak with a very odd accent, but your voice is...odd? It has a...?"

Shay just stared at her for a moment, trying to think of a non-answer. "I'm sorry, did I say something...?" _Saheli_ began.

"Offensive?" Shay finished. "No, um, you didn't offend me. That is because I'm not British. My family is from another part of Europe. I have a bit of what you would call a drawl," she explained.

"A...drawl? Hm, yes I suppose. Come, why don't you meet everybody?" the young native woman grinned and yanked Shay along.

Shay caught something like a smirk on Connor's face as she was pulled into a group of other women. Most of them regarded her suspiciously, peering up at her from their work, whether it was sewing or weaving. Immediately she began to shrink back as _Saheli_ chatted incessantly to the group. Some showed a little interest, while it was made aware that she was not welcome there. Fair enough, she had chores to finish.

"Oh! Perhaps, we can do something together. Perhaps we could go gather, and I can show you a splendid clearing I found the other day," _Saheli_ chattered "I am very interested in your culture!"

At this point, Connor stepped in. "I am sorry, _Saheli_, we must return. I am sure that she would love to come visit again. When I am coming by again I will bring her," he said pleasantly.

"_I would enjoy that, __Ratonhnhaké:ton. She is like a frightened doe, but I will bring her around,_" she said happily, slipping back into their native language.

Connor nodded, beckoning Shay away from the group. "_Until next time_," he said, walking toward the entrance to the village.

Shay glanced back at the native woman and offered an awkward smile. "Good bye. It was nice to meet you," she said politely. Perhaps in this world it would be beneficial to make some friends, some that would not pry too far into her life. While _Saehli_ was a little curious about her family and history, it was all innocent. This young woman was not prying for information, but merely a scholar of sorts. She wanted to learn about other cultures rather than interrogate and poke her nose where it didn't belong. Because of that Shay felt a little more comfortable.

"Yes, I look forward to seeing you again!" _Saehli_ grinned. Shay took the opportunity to slink away and follow Connor toward the forest.

As they emerged there were two horses waiting for them. A black mare and chestnut appaloosa gelding stood tethered to a tree. They were saddled, waiting and ready to go back to the homestead. Shay was a little nervous. It had been a long time since she had ridden a horse. She wasn't even sure if she remembered how to. The last time had probably been when she was fifteen or sixteen, when she had gone through that phase many young girls go through. It didn't look as if she was going to have much of a choice either way.

Hopefully it would be like riding a bike. Connor grabbed the black mare, mounting up easily. He stared at her for a moment as she grabbed the reins of the appaloosa and flung them over his neck. The look she got was almost hilarious as she tried to pull her knee up towards her neck to stretch the tendons. She must have looked absolutely ridiculous because he was just watching her. "Don't you have something else to look at?" she asked defensively.

He didn't answer, but merely looked away with a small snort. _Okay, you can do this _she thought to herself as she placed her foot in the stirrup. The horse was taller than the ones she remembered. Hopping a few steps she pulled herself up and into the saddle. The appaloosa began to walk forward, snorting as she scrambled to hold the reins. "Okay, ready when you are," she said, glancing over at the young native.

Connor shook his head and directed the black mare in the direction they had come from, starting at a nice trot to set the pace. Shay applied gentle pressure to the gelding's side, causing him to jump a little and start forward, his ears pinned as he followed his herd mate. It didn't take long to emerge onto the path towards the homestead.

"Hey, I bet I could beat you there," Shay said casually. She was beginning to grow curious about this young native and why he was so stuffy. She hadn't exactly been pleasant since arriving, but now that she was sure that the people the manor weren't going to kill her she had begun to feel comfortable. Connor had remained suspicious and grumpy, speaking curtly to her and always disappearing at odd times.

Connor eyed her for a moment. "How do I know you won't run off?" he asked suspiciously.

"I haven't run off since I came to the homestead," she answered, giving him a look. "Come on, have a little fun. I haven't seen you laugh."

The young native stiffened, frowning. "I see no reason to laugh and fool around."

Shay rolled her eyes. "Like I said, I'll beat you there!" she challenged, nudging her horse in the ribs.

Completely unsuspecting of this, the gelding leaped forward into a gallop that nearly made Shay lose her seat. It had been a long time indeed, and she found herself holding onto the horse's mane to keep from falling off. The gelding didn't seem to be bothered by it as he began to sweat, charging up the path towards home.

Connor stared after her in bewilderment. This girl was so strange. Shaking his head he kicked his mare into a gallop behind them, catching up easily. He could hear Shay laugh as she straightened, holding the reins more easily in her hands now that she wasn't in danger of falling off from her own imbalance. She glanced over to see Connor and his mare pulling up alongside her and her trusty steed. If she was going to be stuck here, guiding this man, she was going to be damned if she didn't try to lighten him up a little bit.

"Is that all you got?" she teased.

"You are going to break your neck," he growled.

Shay shrugged and grinned in response as they came up on the manor. She gently applied pressure to the reins to bring the animal to a steady walk. The gelding snorted softly, damp with sweat, but thoroughly happy as his ears perked forward. Connor pulled his mare up, trotting past the chestnut and his rider. Sheesh.

Sighing softly, Shay directed him towards the stable and dismounted after making sure he was cool. The stable hand didn't offer to clean him up, knowing full well she wanted to do it. It didn't take her long to slide the tack off of the gelding, brushing him down and checking his hooves for stones. He seemed in good health and hungry as he nosed her for a treat. Connor had not stayed around for cleaning up the horses, but instead had began to make his way to the manor.

"And where have you two been?" Achilles' voice rang, irritable.

Oh no. Cringing, Shay glanced up at the old man. He was leaning forward on his cane, scrutinizing the both of them with one glance. "I do not believe all of the chores I gave you were finished."

"I took her away from her chores. It was very important and urgent," Connor spoke up, causing Achilles to eye him suspiciously.

"Oh really? And where did you take her off too? It seemed to me that you two were having a little too much fun," he asked.

Shay's face flushed pink at what Achilles was suggesting. Did no one in this place know how to have a little fun? If one race was seen as a date then she was in big trouble. Even Connor had the sense to flush at the old man's words.

"No, it was not like that," he stammered, glaring. "I had to take her to the village. It was very urgent."

Achilles laughed at Connor's denials. "Boy, you are going to be the death of me." He poked Connor in the chest with his cane. "Very well. I expect those chores to be done tomorrow with the rest of the ones assigned in the morning. Connor, you will be assisting her before you continue your training. Now, get inside and clean up for dinner. You two look like a mess."

The two nodded and quickly scurried in to get a seat at the table.

ooooo

"Have you never used a broom before?" Shay asked, raising her brow as Connor awkwardly swept

at the path way. This man could leap from trees and kill a man with little effort yet sweeping the walk way was completely beyond him. The brooding look on his face didn't seem to be the problem, but user error. Was being punished for interfering with Achilles' orders really that bothersome to him? Or was it the fact he was doing 'woman's work'?

"Earth to Connor, what are you doing?" she asked again, taking the broom from the native. "Here, I will sweep. Why don't you fold the laundry?" she offered, pointing at the clothes line.

The young man snorted, but went to do so. Something was bothering him, from the way he stiffened as he folded the sheets and the way he indelicately dropped them into a basket. Trying to lighten the mood she began to hum, something she did frequently when she worked. It did little to help, but at least now he wasn't close to shredding the brand new sheets Corrine had bought.

What of your village?" Connor asked, cutting off her humming.

"What about it?" she answered his question with one of her own.

This seemed to irritate him further but he did his best to hide it. "What is the name of your village? You never speak of your home, yet you claim to miss it."

Shay hesitated at this. She could not reveal too much, for fear of sounding absolutely crazy and being sent to prison. Mental hospitals were not built until the 1800's, and prison was not a place she wanted to end up. In fact, she would much rather ride the public transportation system back home than go to prison in this time. Thinking over her answer, she spoke carefully, "I am from Seattle. It is much like Boston."

At this Connor tilted his head slightly. "Seattle?" he repeated, the word feeling awkward on his tongue. "Where is this Seattle?"

"West," she answered simply. "It is also colonized by the British," It was a bit of a fib, but she was trying to make it sound like it was no big deal. The area would be settled about this time with the British and Spaniards fighting over it. Seattle, however would not come around until the late 1800's, and neither would the state be recognized in the union until about that time.

The young man stared at her reluctantly. "I see. You are...odd."

"Yeah, well, you're nothing normal yourself."

"How so?" She could hear the defense in his voice.

"You're a young man leaping around from tree to tree, stabbing your enemies, whom I'm assuming were completely unsuspecting. You are stubborn, silent, and bullheaded, and you are gone until odd hours of the night sometimes," she said, ticking things off on her fingers. She knew all about the stabbing. The blood had been a nightmare to get out of his clothes, and really only Corrine had saved them by showing her a way to soak them to lift the stains out.

Connor squared his shoulders, "Oh, yes, and you are so simple. I don't keep secrets, hiding little black boxes and refusing to give any answers to my hosts, whom are so generous as to let me work off my debt instead of sending me off to prison," he growled.

Shay stared at him for a moment and laughed, catching him off guard, "Is this about the little black box that I have? Is it that bothersome to you?" she asked, smiling. It only irritated him further. "It's nothing to be worried about. It is as simple as the thing you use to communicate with your spirits." She waved him off as she put the broom up and grabbed the basket from him.

"If it is so simple then show me," he countered.

Shay felt the dread enter her chest, leaving it aching. "Perhaps another time, Connor. It is very special to me, and all will come with time."

He scowled slightly, but took the basket back from her. "Yes, I suppose so. Where do these belong?"

She offered him a slight smile despite the hardened scowl. "Upstairs in the first closet on the left," she said gently before watching him stomp off. Sighing quietly she grabbed the broom and an empty basket before heading back in. With Connor's help the chores had gone quickly, leaving her with a little more time than she anticipated. The library was calling her name, and she was eager to get to it.

Shortly after she closed the door behind her there was a loud knock, startling her. Connor had already appeared from the basement, heading towards it with a sense of urgency. He must have gone down there to think. It seemed to be his favorite place to disappear when he wasn't in the mood to be bothered by anybody. She watched as he pulled the door open to reveal another young native.

"Kanen'tó:kon," he greeted, sounding delighted but worried at the same time. "What brings you here? Is the village alright?" He stepped outside to get a better look at his friend.

Not wanting to exactly be nosy, Shay ducked into the next room. She was just close enough to hear their words distinctively without staring and being obvious to their conversation.

"For now. Men came, claiming we had to leave. They said the land was being sold and that the Confederacy had consented. We sent an envoy, but they would not listen," was the saddened reply.

Shay brought a hand up to her mouth. She knew that in the future the natives would be driven off of their land through war, disease, and what the government would call diplomacy. It really was nothing more than a ploy to make the tribes feel confident their needs would be taken care of as they were placed on reservations. Connor had no idea what would really become of his people.

"You must refuse!" Connor shot back. She could feel the anger in his voice.

As they moved away from the door it became muffled until Achilles spoke up. "Connor, take care. These men are powerful."

"What would you have me do? I made a promise to my people!" the young man shot back.

There was a moment of silence, and Shay dare not move lest she be caught eavesdropping. That would only make Connor angrier at her. What broke the silence was Achilles' voice. "If you insist upon this course of action, seek out Sam Adams in Boston. He'll be able to help."

Connor seemed to accept this answer, falling silent now that he had gotten his way. What she wasn't expecting was another loud thud. Peeking out the window she saw a hatchet buried into the support column of the porch.

"What have you done?" Achilles asked, obviously vexed by what his apprentice had just done.

"When my people go to war, a hatchet is buried into a post to signify its start. When the threat is ended, the hatchet is removed," the young native spoke smoothly, most of the anger gone from his voice.

Achilles sighed frustratedly, "You could have used a tree!" He grumbled to himself, coming back into the house. As he turned the corner he caught sight of Shay staring out the window after Connor's retreating back. "What are you thinking about, child?"

Hesitating, the young woman drew back, her gaze flitting to him. "I would like to go with him to Boston," she blurted, her cheeks turning red.

The older man lifted a brow as he leaned forward on his cane. "And what makes you think that I should allow you to go to Boston?" he asked. "You would only get in his way."

"I...well..." she stuttered, glancing back out the window. "I have done everything you ask with no fight, and you know he will get himself in trouble if he goes alone. You would go with him if you could." Her blue eyes met his defiantly. She knew that despite Achilles' rough nature with Connor he had a soft spot for the young assassin. The older man just didn't want to admit it. As he wavered it only further reinforced this belief.

"And I suppose you will return when you are finished and not run off like a wild child?" he asked, giving her a look.

"If I haven't run away by this point there is no sense in trying. Connor could track me through hell and high water faster than an antelope." She grimaced as Achilles raised an eyebrow at her comparison. Right, this was not home and all of her mannerisms were completely foreign. It took a lot of control on her part of keep a hold on her mouth. A few times things had slipped out that she was left scrambling to explain or cover up.

"I won't get in his way, I promise. I have never been to Boston before and it would be a nice trip," she urged, hoping that the old man would give way.

"You will go to Boston to get supplies for the homestead. You will travel with Connor on the way there and stay with him so you don't get yourself killed. I will not be responsible for your death. You better go or he will leave without you," he relented, shaking his head. "Children have no manners these days."

Shay grinned stupidly as she bolted up the stairs. She quickly shoved some clothes into a bag and changed into more suitable riding attire. A dress would not be particularly attractive while riding except to scoundrels and drunks. Satisfied that she was packed for the journey she leaped down the stairs. Achilles was waiting at the bottom, a note clasped in his hand – no doubt the supplies they needed. He handed it to her roughly, returning his grip to his cane.

"Now, best be going or you will lose him. Be careful," he said.

Nodding, the young woman pulled the door open and jogged out into the yard where Connor was just about to ride off. Perhaps this place wasn't so bad after all. This family had shown her mercy

, compassion, and a sense of love in the few weeks she had been with them. Achilles had, of course, been gruff and rude at times, but she did not think much of it. This manor had been like a home and she found herself becoming more fond of it. Yet, this was not home, and she was ready to get back to where she belonged.

Ignoring Connor's impatience, she grabbed the gelding from the day before and got him ready for the ride ahead. Perhaps this trip into the city would be more than just a grocery run. Mounting, she moved the gelding forward into a trot after the assassin.

**Okay, that's it for this chapter! I hope you all enjoyed it. Normally I cringe at fics that have the OC dogging the main character everywhere, but I promise it has a purpose in this and the following chapter. Thanks for any feedback!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks everyone for the reviews/favorites/watches! I'm sorry it took so long to update. I struggled with this chapter a little bit in getting it to flow like I wanted to. But here it is, so enjoy! Feedback appreciated.**

**I do not own anything from the Assassin's Creed franchise. **

Chapter 5

They had been riding for most of the day, silent for the most part. Any attempts at conversation had been quickly shunted away. If they were going to be spending this much time together they might as well talk or something. The silence was killing her. That silence was rudely interrupted by her stomach as it growled loudly. Grimacing, she glanced at the back of Connor's head as he rode in front of her.

"Are we going to be making camp soon?" she asked. The sky was beginning to bleed into a series of pinks, blues, and yellows as the sun sank below the horizon. Perhaps Connor was comfortable while traveling in the dark, but she was not.

"We don't have time to make camp," he said simply, dropping the conversation like he had all of the others.

Frowning, Shay urged her gelding into a trot to draw up alongside the assassin. "Look, I know sometimes I'm a grouch, but if we don't find somewhere to make camp, you are going to regret it. I don't do well with this whole not eating and not sleeping," she said, staring at him. She could see the irritation in the lines of his mouth as it drooped into a scowl. Like most normal people in her time she was used to being full and rested, and became rather grumpy when these needs weren't met.

The young man sighed in frustration. "We will stop only because I am tired of your whining," he growled, turning his mare off the beaten path into a more sheltered area.

Pleased with his decision, Shay grinned and followed quickly after him. "Fantastic!" she exclaimed, dismounting after he had found a suitable place to make camp. She quickly untacked her gelding, tying the reins to the tree so he wouldn't wander off anywhere. Connor had done the same with his mare, laying his equipment to the side.

"We need some wood to make the fire. I suggest you look for branches that are dry and healthy looking," he said as he knelt down to grab something out of one of his packs.

"You mean you want me to go out there alone?" she asked uneasily as she glanced out at the forest.

Connor raised an eyebrow at her. "You will be just fine."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Hunt for your dinner," he snapped as he straightened.

Grumbling, Shay ducked her head down and wandered into the brush. When she had been in the cave she had gathered fire wood for herself, but had been unable to start an actual fire. It was kind of sad, really, as she huddled over the wood striking two rocks together in hopes of making enough spark to start one. She hadn't exactly been a girl scout in her younger years. She glanced back at the site Connor was setting up before forcing herself to go deeper into the forest.

Thankfully broken branches lay across the forest floor in some spots, making her job a little easier. She gathered what she could hold in her arms, and started back, humming softly to ease her apprehension. That didn't last for long as she heard twigs snapping under the foot of something heavy. Freezing, she glanced around for an invisible enemy. When nothing lunged at her she began walking again until she heard the rustling of brush.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she picked up her pace. Perhaps if she could just get in the small clearing of the site she would have that illusion of safety. A wild animal wouldn't want to ambush her there, right? As she turned the corner something stepped out of the brush, tall and looming, a silhouette in the dying sunlight. On instinct she screamed, dropping the wood at her feet until a hand came around her mouth, muffling it.

"Why are you screaming? You just scared off any animal in the area," Connor's voice growled as he pulled her closer.

Scowling, she tugged his hand away from her mouth and took a step back. "That was the idea! I thought you were a bear or cougar or something! There was something out there in the brush!" she snapped as she bent down to grab the branches she had dropped.

"There was nothing out there, and now you won't have anything to eat," he pointed out, grabbing some of the wood as well.

Ashamed of her cowardice, she followed him quietly back to the campsite. She dumped her load onto the ground in the middle of the small clearing. "Look, I'm sorry. Is there a river nearby, perhaps?" she asked.

"About a twenty minute walk from here," he said, not looking at her as he arranged the wood in such a way to start a fire.

The sunlight was fading fast, but it seemed to be the only option if she didn't want to eat the dried food they had brought along in case of an emergency. Glancing up at the sky, she noticed it had began to turn inky, a black purple mix easing its way across the golds and reds. "Well, we don't have much choice," she pointed out, looking back to him.

The young assassin frowned as he stood up. This young woman was so troublesome. It was like she couldn't go longer than a few hours before getting herself into trouble or saying something that made things awkward. Well, more awkward than their silence was. Perhaps he would get some answers out of her on this trip, but there was a sense of doubt in the back of his mind. Nodding slightly, he grabbed his bow and slung it over his back. "Come on then."

Shay sighed softly as she followed him further into the forest. The trip there was silent. She was beginning to feel like a burden the longer the trip to Boston went on. It really wasn't her fault that she had no ability to live on her own in the forest. The condition Connor had found her in was a testament to that. Thankfully twenty minutes wasn't that long and they had reached the edge of the river. The water flowed softly and gracefully downstream, calm save for the ripple of the wind.

Reaching down, she tugged off her boot and socks. It was cold during this time of year, but she didn't have much of a choice unless she wanted her clothes to be soaked. Then hypothermia might set in, and that would be less than pleasant. No amount of potion drinking would cure that. She rolled up the legs of her pants above her knee, making sure they wouldn't fall. Taking a deep breath, she gathered up her courage and waded into the river.

The shock of the cold water made her gasp slightly and freeze, hoping the water would warm around her skin. Of course that wasn't going to happen so she forced herself out a few more steps. "Holy moly, this water is freezing," she whined, shivering.

"What are you doing?" the young assassin asked, raising a brow.

"Well, how else are we going to catch fish? Do you have a fishing pole?" she shot back, glaring at him before returning to the water. She leaned forward slightly until she saw movement, and quickly lunged only to come up empty handed. Shaking her head, she waited again until she saw another flash of a fish tail. It was gone as soon as she had moved to grab it, leaving her hands full of water instead of fish.

Shaking his head, the young assassin walked to the edge and took off his bow before fixing it with an arrow. He waited patiently, his trained gaze following as he drew back and released. The arrow landed firmly in the water, pinning a fish to the river floor. Mockingly, he leaned forward and retrieved it, showing it to her. "Like that," he said, smirking.

Shay narrowed her eyes at his gloating. Big bad assassin could catch a fish with a bow and arrow. "Oh, Connor, you're so big and strong and smart," she said sarcastically, causing him to bristle. Leaning forward, out of his view, she continued on. "I don't know what I would do without you to take care of me." Without warning, she whipped around and splashed him full on with a wave of water.

The assassin coughed as it went up his nose and into his eyes. He jumped back, front soaked with cold river water, and glared at her. He shivered slightly as he set the bow and fish to the side, making sure it wouldn't flop back into the river for it was still a little lively. If that was how she wanted to play, fine. For the record, she was the one who started it. By this point Shay was laughing at the look on his face, bent over and not at all paying attention to what he was doing. He took the opportunity to sneak way silently.

When she looked back up, she was gone. "Oh, come on, Connor! I was only playing around. I didn't mean to make you mad," she said loudly. Silence.

Sighing, she drug her hand across the crystal surface of the water. She didn't hear the assassin slip quietly in behind her, his movements barely making the water ripple. It wasn't until he sent a large wave of water over her back that she knew he was there. Screaming, she staggered forward into the water, landing on her hands and knees. Now she was thoroughly soak, which had not been her intention when getting in here.

Turning around she saw his smug face grinning at her. "You jerk!" she exclaimed playfully as she tried to splash him again. He moved nimbly out of reach, watching her.

She scrambled after him, slamming her smaller body into his large frame. They both went down with a grunt into the icy cold water. Shay began to laugh as she surfaced, hurrying back towards the shore where their dinner was waiting. Connor sat up, glaring at her for a moment before smiling. Ever since he had arrived on Achilles' doorstep, his life had not allotted time for fun. It was brief moments like this that he remembered what it was like to laugh.

"Come on! I'm hungry, and freezing!" she whined at him, smiling.

Sighing softly, he stood up and trudged out of the river now that his boots were full of water. As he reached her he shoved her gently back into the water with a splash. It took no time at all to reach the fish and grab it. "I thought you said you were hungry?" he teased as he watched her pull herself up and back onto her feet.

"I did. You were the one who so rudely pushed a lady into the river," she said, trying to hold her head high as she hurried out of the water ungracefully.

He snorted lightly. Yeah, right, a lady. Shaking his head, he started back towards camp with Shay following closely behind, boots in hand. The air began to grow colder as the sun disappeared all together behind the horizon. Now there was nothing but the moon and the stars to light their way. Thankfully Connor seemed to know where he was going, so she followed his every footstep.

As soon as she stepped foot into camp, Shay immediately grabbed her pack and pulled the dry clothes out of it. Connor hadn't even bothered with his wet clothes, stoking a newborn flame while filleting the fish. Preferring not to watch this particularly bloody venture, she slipped into the brush and changed into the warm clothing. That was much better than being wet.

When she emerged back into the clearing Connor had finished gutting the fish and had it roasting over the fire. It began to smell delicious, making her salivate heavily. He had taken off his robes and hung them up to dry, taking to sitting by the fire instead of changing out of his clothes. Without the robes she could see his muscles ripple as he moved. He was handsome, and even a little charming in his gruff and impatient kind of way.

Shay shook the thoughts out of her head. She couldn't afford to let herself think like that. Home was the main priority, and becoming attached to anybody was a bad idea. It would end in nothing but heartache and who knew what else. Instead, she walked over and sat across from him at the fire. Its warmth soaked into her pleasantly. The December night air was frigid, and promised to only get colder as the night wore on.

"Is it almost ready?" she broke the silence, staring at the delicious hunk of fish just begging to be eaten.

Connor fixed her with a look, but nodded. "Yes." He took the fish off of the fire and sliced it into sections before offering some to her.

Ravenous, Shay snatched it away and began to eat it in a very un-lady like fashion. It took everything he had to keep from staring at her as she licked the delicious morsels off of her fingers. The ache in her stomach ebbed, leaving her full and content. "That was delicious. Thank you, Connor, for the fish," she said before getting up.

He nodded in acknowledgment as he finished the last of his fish. "What are you doing?" he asked, watching her pull herself into the branches of one of the larger trees.

"I want to see across the river. I don't get to see these kinds of things at home," she answered simply as she pulled herself up further into the tree. It wasn't something she could say out loud, but living in the city didn't exactly give a good view of the wilderness. Clogged with skyscrapers, freeways, and traffic, the city was more of a concrete jungle. Puget Sound was the most nature she had seen in a long time, but even then it was full of freighters and boats going to Alaska with fresh seafood.

The young man shook his head. "Don't fall," he said loudly so she could hear him.

"If you're so worried about me falling, why you don't come up here with me?!" she shouted down, knowing it would get him riled up.

Connor choked slightly on his fish as he glared up into the tree. "No, thank you," he said coolly.

Shay laughed quietly as she got to the top of the tree. The sight was breathtaking; the moon lit up the tops of the trees, and reflected off the surface of the river. The whole valley seemed to glow a soft silver. As she tilted her head back she caught a glimpse of the endless sea of stars. The lights of the city seemed to dampen the stars, but here they were free.

"Oh, come on, it's beautiful up here!" she exclaimed, looking under her arm at the ground below. The young assassin sighed and looked up.

"I've seen it, now come down. We have to leave at sunrise," he scolded.

Spoil sport. Shay sighed softly and tried to climb down, only to find that she was cat like and in a bad way. "Um, I don't know if I can get down," she said, smiling sheepishly.

Connor shook his head as he walked to the base of the tree. "I will catch you if you fall. One foot in front of the other," he said, folding his arms over his chest.

"That does not look like a catching position to me!" she protested, testing a limb before lowering herself down. What she really needed was the fire department to come get her. That would be hilarious. "I'm not taking another step until I know you will catch me."

"You can sleep up there if you wish," he pointed out, but unfolded his arms anyways.

Shay whimpered softly as she slowly and meticulous weaved her way down from the tree tops. Fate would have it that she slipped on the last branch, her arms flailing wildly as she desperately tried to grab a branch. Connor caught her easily and lowered her to the ground. Sighing in relief, she fixed him with another sheepish smile. "Thanks," she mumbled.

"Come on," he said and walked back to the fire to rest.

She followed him, lying down not far from him. He offered her a blanket before lying down as well. "There aren't any bears and lions?" she asked suddenly, glancing out into the brush.

It was going to be a long night. He wasn't sure why Achilles had insisted on sending her with him, but now he was going to give the old man a piece of his mind when he got back. "Yes, I'm sure. I will be here if anything happens," he answered.

With that Shay seemed satisfied, and lay down her head. It wasn't long before he heard her breathing shift in pattern and speed. Perhaps now he would finally have some peace.

ooooo

The rest of the trip to Boston had been uneventful. Connor seemed to be growing more comfortable with her, not being quite as stuffy as he had been. He was exactly chatty, but they were making progress, and Shay was determined to get him there at some point. She looked around in wonder as they entered Boston. The streets were bustling with people going about their lives. Merchants were selling their goods and wares, doctors were out advertising cures to every day ailments, and children were screaming as they ran around their mother's feet. It really wasn't much different from her home. That thought was comforting as she followed Connor to the inn. A warm bed and warm food was a welcomed thought after spending several days in the woods.

Connor dismounted and hitched his horse to the pole outside of the inn. He pushed the door to the inn open and entered the dimly lit building. The sun had not yet brightened the glum wooden interior, leaving it a drab brown. "Good morning, what can I do for you sir?" a stocky man asked from behind a counter. He was short, round in stature, and very hairy. It was almost disturbing with how much black hair this man had, from his face to his arms, and the little that poked out from his shirt.

"I am in need of two rooms," Connor answered.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but I only have one room for the next few days. There is an event going on in town, and most everyone is booked. If it is any comfort, it does have two beds," the inn keeper apologized.

It took everything he had to keep from groaning at the thought of having to spend another night near this woman. While they had come to bicker less and less over the last couple of days, he had had just about enough of her. Pinching the bridge of his nose he nodded slowly. "That is fine. It will do for now. I will take the room for a few days," he said, not wanting to make a scene in the middle of the inn. He slapped some coin onto the front desk.

Motioning to Shay he trudged up the stairs with his bag in hand. The young woman glanced at the smile on the inn keeper's face before rolling her eyes and following up to the room. It was going to be one of those days. Going to the bed farthest from the window, she dropped her bag unceremoniously onto the neatly arranged blanket.

"I am going to find Sam Adams. I will not be back until late tonight," he said suddenly, turning to go to the door.

"Okay. Be safe," she said softly, watching him go. She needed to go to the market anyways, and gather any supplies that were not perishable. The rest could wait until they were on their way back to the homestead. Refrigeration was not exactly the in thing right now. Grabbing a dress out of her pack, she quickly changed to keep from standing out in the crowd. The last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself. When she was satisfied, she grabbed the list Achilles had given her and quickly made her way downstairs.

The inn was relatively quiet, a few patrons milling on the ground level, but not much else. She pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders as she exited into the street. The bustle here had not died, but seemed to have gotten heavier as people hurried from one point to the next. At least the signs were marked proficiently, and she could tell what everything was.

The butcher, the apothecary, the general good stores all marked with large signs elegantly scribbled on with symbols of their trade. Crinkling her nose, she made her way towards a sign with a piece of fabric and thread on it. Some fabric, thread, and yarn were on the list, and those seemed to be the easiest to grab.

As she walked down the street she felt her shoulder collide with something. Turning abruptly, she caught a glimpse of a middle-aged man dressed better than an average citizen. His face looked familiar, or at least parts of it were. He stared at her for a moment, as if unnerved by her. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir," she said, rubbing her shoulder. "I should pay attention."

"No, no, that's quite alright," he insisted, touching the tip of his hat towards her.

She watched as he walked away, joined by two other men. An uneasy feeling sank into her chest as they turned the corner and out of sight. Shaking it off, she entered the shop, hearing the little bell jingle as she did.

ooooo

Dropping the tea into the ocean had been successful. All around the boats the civilians were cheering, a spark ready to explode at a moment's notice. It was empowering to take a stand against the crown, for they would not be silenced so easily. He felt a sense of victory. Now his people and their land would be safe from Johnson and his schemes. He walked nimbly down the plank connecting the ship to the dock. Across the way he caught sight of Johnson, Lee, and a few other men watching them. A sneer graced Lee's lips as they watched.

Stephane came up behind him, handing him a crate of tea. "We saved the last for you," he said.

Connor lifted the crate above his head, shaking it to egg the crowd on as they cheered. Facing the group across the pier he dropped the tea into the ocean. He was about to head off when he noticed another figure behind Lee. It wasn't his facial features, his hair, or his eyes that made his heart sink. It was the clothes he wore.

As if oblivious to the time period he was in, the man wore a pair of blue jeans and a dress shirt tucked into them. A tie completed the ensemble with a pair of nice dress shoes. He held a cigarette up to his lips and took in a deep drag before blowing the smoke out into the chilly night air. Those clothes were close to what he had found in the cave when he had taken Shay back to the homestead. She had been in possession of a pair of pants exactly like that, with a casual shirt and shoes that were clearly not from around this area.

This must have been why she didn't want to talk to him about anything. She must have lied about her Templar association to get close to the Brotherhood. Clenching his fists, he turned and stomped off. His cheeks burned with anger and betrayal as he quickly made his way back to the inn.

**And there you are folks! Another chapter finished, and with Connor drawing conclusions. But who could really blame the guy? I hope you enjoyed!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Here is another chapter! From now on, it is nothing but spoilers for the game as things take place, so if you haven't finished I would recommend you not read on. Enjoy!**

**I do not own the Assassin's Creed Franchise.**

Chapter 6

Anger was visible in every line of his form, radiated off of him in a wave of heat. Betrayal was something he did not expect to feel as he stormed towards the inn, leaving the group of fighters behind him in confusion. He had barely known the girl a few weeks, but the last few days he had felt himself growing closer to her despite knowing better. He conceded to the fact that he had not learned better in the last few years of his life. The irrationality of his conclusion didn't cross his mind, for it explained so many things about her. She wasn't willing to divulge any information about herself, and was rather secretive. It wasn't until recently that she even began to laugh and interact with those who lived in the homestead.

The assassin tromped up the steps to the door of the inn, and opened it quietly with a good deal of restraint. There wasn't anyone around, save for the inn keeper who dutifully stood behind the desk. He merely nodded to the stout man before making his way up the stairs. It took all of his discipline to not stomp, but gracefully glide to their room.

Opening it loudly, he stepped into the room and just about slammed the door behind him. "Get up!" he snarled.

The young woman lurched out of bed, clearly startled by his rather rough entrance. "What's wrong?" she asked sleepily, her hair stuck up at odd ends. She didn't look particularly menacing, but Connor was about done being fooled. He approached her, backing her into a corner, though he did not move to touch her.

"What are the Templars planning? Why are they trying to gain my people's land?" he asked aggressively, a snarl pulling back his lips.

Shay immediately put her hands up in front of her face, cringing away. "I don't know what you're talking about!" she snarled back, biting back tears of fear.

"There was a man at the pier dressed in the same clothes I found in the cave with you! You won't tell us anything about yourself and you hide from my questions. _What are they planning_?" he growled, leaning over her.

The mention of a man with clothes similar to hers made her perk up a little. Had Trevor actually survived the attack? She was sure she had seen him fall dead, but perhaps there was still hope. Then a million questions flooded her mind, leaving her trembling in front of the assassin. His gaze bore down on her with an intensity she hadn't seen before, and it frightened her. The tears she had been trying to hold back ran down her cheeks. "I have no idea. If he dresses like I do means nothing of our relationship," she choked.

The assassin reached out and grabbed her arm, but it was not as tight as she thought it would have been. Instead he pinned her shoulder against the wall. "You are lying," he said, unperturbed by her tears. "If you are not a Templar then tell me every last detail of who you are."

The young woman felt trapped, not only physically but mentally. She could not in good faith tell Connor exactly who she was and where she was from. He would not believe her and the accusations of being a Templar would continue until someone heard the shouting and came to investigate. Panting, she looked around the room for a second, adrenaline rushing through her body. It was not an unfamiliar feeling, and she let it. _Juno, I'm going to give you a piece of my mind_ she thought as she dug around in her pocket. Connor had noticed the movement and went to grab her hand, pulling it roughly.

Her hand had enclosed on her multi-tool, pulling and twisting the small LED flashlight that lay on the outer part of the handle. It would not harm him, but perhaps she could momentarily startle him with it. He wouldn't be expecting it, nor know what a flashlight was. She let him pull her arm up and quickly flashed the light into his eyes. The assassin gave a small cry of surprise as he closed his eyes and backed up.

While he was temporarily stunned, Shay threw herself into his body, pushing him back slightly. The adrenaline seemed to flow thicker in her veins as she quickly ducked towards the door. Connor reached and barely missed her arm as she flung it open. This time he was not so careful as to not wake anyone as he followed. She leaped down the stairs, clearing the last four all together as she made for the main door. The inn keeper shouted as the two tore through and out the door.

She would never be able to keep this up. Connor was faster than her, and packed more muscle than several of her put together. He would catch up quickly and then it was game over for her. Her muscles were already tiring as she made it halfway down the street, her breaths coming in rapid pants. She could hear his boots against the cobblestone as she ducked into ally, weaving between the buildings.

Some redcoats began to shout as they joined the two, their rifles slung over their shoulders. Connor leaped easily onto a fence, climbing a building as he hopped down on the other side right in front of her. Her feet ached as she slid and dodged to the right. His hand grabbed her shirt, jerking her back towards him and into the dirt. The breath left her lungs with a grunt as she lay stunned.

Connor seemed slightly winded but no worse for wear as he heaved her up to her feet. The tears came again with a small sob as he began to haul her back towards an ally when the redcoats appeared in a line. "'Ey! Whot are yeh doin' with the lass?" one of them spat, watching Connor warily.

The young assassin gave a frustrated sigh as he glanced between the four men. This was his problem to deal with and he did not need their interference. If it had been just him he would have been able to run and hide until the clamor calmed down, but with the woman in tow he would have to stand his ground. Which she took advantage of as she jerked away and headed towards the outer lying farmland and forest. Connor scowled and glanced at the redcoats before darting in another direction.

Shay knew the redcoats would follow the assassin, believing him to be a criminal while she fled for cover. If she got to the forest she might be able to lose him. Then it would be back to the life she had before. Perhaps this time the wilderness would actually kill her, and she wouldn't have to worry anymore. Then the question of the other man popped into her mind. Who was he? Was it really Trevor? She was reluctant to rely on hope, but it was all she had. Once she evaded Connor she could find this other man and find out what was going on. Perhaps he had a way home if it wasn't Trevor.

She slowed to a jog and then a walk, coughing as the adrenaline ebbed away, leaving her defenseless and exhausted. Sweat lay in a thin sheen against her pale skin, her legs shaking from the sudden force she had applied when running. She coughed again, forcing herself to walk it off deeper into the trees. Where was she going to go? She couldn't go back to the homestead. Connor would head there and alert everybody to keep a watch for her. Achilles would never believe her if she got there before him; he would assume she had run off and broke her word.

The sobs began to return as she collapsed against a large tree. She slid to the ground, holding her face in her hands. She was once again alone in a place she didn't know, the one safe haven she had found was gone in an instant. Pulling her hands away from her face, she glanced around the forest before pulling herself to her feet, which were now numb with the cold. She hadn't bothered to put shoes on, or even grab some, when she had fled.

Reaching down, she rubbed them to encourage blood flow before heading a little deeper into the woods.

ooooo

Stupid redcoats. They were always a hazard when he was working, and this little incident was no different. The girl had gotten a good head start in the woods, blending in with her dark clothing. Now he was having to tail her in the dark in the forest, with lots of places to hide, and one of him to do it. He was not going to return to the homestead without her in tow. He was going to prove to Achilles that he was right and this girl was no good.

The young assassin moved through the tree tops with ease, weaving in and out of the branches as he kept an eye on the ground. This girl had been in miserable shape when he found her, so she couldn't have gotten far, unless it was a ploy. His movements slowed and quieted as he noticed a spot moving not far ahead. Like a predator, he glided through the branches, crouched and ready to spring as he saw her up ahead. She had slid to the ground against a tree, crying.

Had he been wrong? He faltered for a moment, but shook his head as she pulled herself to her feet and continued to walk. As patiently as he could muster, he followed, and watched her as she staggered around, rubbing her feet to warm them. His gaze raised as he noticed a few redcoats walking in her direction. Just like a mountain lion, he felt a flush of anger. This was his prey, and he was not going to let them take it. He stalked around behind them, watching as they approached her.

"'Ey, sweet'art, whot are yeh doin' out 'ere?" one asked, looking the young woman up and down.

Shay had stopped dead in her tracks, holding her arms against herself. "Um, I...I just got lost," she said barely loud enough for him to hear.

"Why don't yeh come with us?" the other offered, pointing in the distance.

She was unsure of this man's intentions, and began to back up slowly when one of them grabbed her by the arm. She struck out at him, but missed his face by inches, leaving him a space to grab her other arm. Unaware of Connor in the tree tops she screamed, and struggled. This was all he needed to drop from the trees, blades extended as they found themselves buried in the necks of the two redcoats. The two instantly dropped, releasing Shay from their hold.

Connor rose, sheathing his blades as he grabbed onto Shay's arm before she could even register what was happening. She screamed again as his hand clamped over her mouth, muffling the sound, though there really wasn't anyone else around to hear it. He dragged her over to a tree, pinning her up against it with his hands on her arms.

"Please, just let me go!" she begged. She should have known better than to think she was going to get away from him so easily. He knew this area way better than she did, and probably traveled it in both the light and the dark. "I don't know anything, I promise." Her words became choked sobs as stared up into his hooded face.

The young assassin growled low under his breath, watching her become pitiful right in front of him, like a blob of jelly. "You are going to tell me everything. I am done with your excuses," he growled.

At this point she was trapped, literally and figuratively as she pressed back into the bark as if she could just sink into it and out of this predicament. Connor was not going to relent, and she could see it in the way his mouth twisted into a snarl, his body tense with anger and his eyes gleaming underneath his hood. She slowly exhaled, watching him warily as he waited for her answer.

"I..." she started quietly, biting her lip. This was it; she could no longer hide from the truth and she would most likely be imprisoned and die in this era. She struggled with fear and uncertainty, trying to find trust somewhere in the mix. Juno had trusted that she would fulfill her duty, and that her place here had a purpose, so perhaps she needed to trust time to take its course. A blackness waited on the front of her mind, adding negativity into the uncertainty. She had to take a leap of faith.

"I'm not from here," she said shakily, wincing as his face stiffened. There would be no beating around the bush in this conversation. "I'm not even from this time, just like that man you saw. I'm from the year 2012. I was brought here by your Spirits for reasons unbeknownst to me, and all I know is I am here for a reason. My best friend was showing me a..." she paused, trying to think of a word he would be able to understand in context. "A thing he made for a group of people that paid him. Something went wrong and we woke up here. He died, Connor! They killed him."

Confusion began to cloud his scowl, the lines around his mouth softening as she began to weep. He hesitated, looking away from her and into the darkness. The confession was not what he was expecting, and it was too farfetched for his taste. A part of him wanted to just leave her here so he didn't have to deal with this. There wasn't really any useful information she had if she was indeed fabricating this story. Yet the weeping and hurting form in front of him discouraged that decision.

"Please, I don't want to die. Just let me go, and I'll go tell Juno to find someone else to guide you. I never wanted anything to do with this fight anyways. This is between the Assassins and Templars, and I was never meant for war," she pleaded between her tears. "I just want to go home."

His attention was caught again as she spoke of his brotherhood and his enemy. Her pleading affected him little as he watched her tremble and look about like a cornered rabbit. "Stop," he commanded, watching her fall silent. "I do not make a habit of killing women. I should turn you over to the British, but I will be more merciful than that. You have caused nothing but trouble since I found you, and I do not trust you to not go running to my enemy. When we get back to the Homestead you will face a fate of our choosing."

The Clan Mother had thought this girl important, and he was reluctant to dismiss that. He respected the elderly woman greatly, but his instincts were yelling at him that this was wrong. This girl had to be crazy; even though he had experienced the magic of the orb his village held so dearly, he could not force himself to believe her wild tale. Grabbing Shay's arm, he dragged her towards the path at the edge of the trees. Their gear was still back at the inn, but the inn keeper had been furious with their display earlier.

He would have to send someone to get it, or retrieve it himself with a small purse to soothe any insult the inn keeper had felt. As they walked back towards the Homestead, he listened to Shay's soft sobs. He was unaware that it was not only her fear, but her feet that were causing the tears in her eyes. She was so used to wearing shoes everywhere that her feet were beginning to blister and turn bright red from the cold. As she stumbled and nearly fell, he realized it was going to be a long trip back.

ooooo

Several days later they walked into the Homestead right as the sun was lowering behind the row of trees. Shay staggered alongside the young assassin. He had at least taken the time to give her some cloth to wrap her feet up in. They were beyond blistered and bleeding, but they were at least warmer and protected from frostbite. The last few nights had been long, and they had barely stopped for rest. Connor's distrust was evident in the way he spoke tersely to her and the way he dragged her along with little space allowance. Apparently he was not afraid of her stabbing him or something, because he had kept her close the whole time.

Achilles met them at bottom of the steps. "What happened to you two?" he asked, raising a brow as Connor shoved Shay in front of him.

"Our guest has not been completely honest with us," he said sharply, scowling.

"Explain," his mentor said simply, leaning forward on his cane.

"Perhaps we should speak of this inside," Connor suggested, gesturing towards the door.

Achilles watched him for a moment, but nodded and moved into the manor with the two closely behind him. He pulled up a chair and sat down to rest his aching body. "Now, what is this all about?" he asked calmly.

Shay hesitated and looked around before stepping farther into the living room. She glanced back at Connor only to meet his angry and expectant face. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly to calm her racing heart. She repeated her tale, doing her best to keep her voice from shaking and the tears at bay. By the end of it, the old man was staring at her with a brow arched and his lips set into a firm line.

"That is quite a story. Do you really expect anybody to believe it?" he asked calmly.

Taken aback, the young woman shook her head. "No," she said simply, grimacing. "All I want is to go home, but it doesn't look like that's going to be happening. If I could find this man, then perhaps I could just leave all together."

"No, I don't think you need to find anybody. Until we decide what to do with you, you will be confined to this manor. Any attempt to escape will be met with consequences, that I assure you, you will not like," Achilles said simply, rising from his chair. "For now your room will be sufficient."

Connor reached out and grabbed her, dragging her up the stairs. "Please, Connor, you have to believe I would never hurt you. I have had plenty of opportunities," she pleaded as he opened the door.

He said nothing as he steered her in and closed the door. He jammed a chair underneath the handle to keep it from turning before heading back downstairs. Achilles didn't seem to be in sight, so he walked outside to search for the old man. There was much to be discussed, and he was unsure of how to go about it. Walking towards the back of the property, he noticed the older man sitting on a rock, staring out over the valley.

"It is done," he said softly as he approached.

"Johnson is dead?" Achilles asked, tilting his head.

"No...he retreated when we destroyed the tea," Connor admitted, walking around in front of his mentor.

"Only to hatch some new scheme, I'm sure. You should have killed him," his mentor said disapprovingly. Today seemed to be full of disappointments and failures. He watched as Connor glanced at Shay's bedroom window, his eyes brooding.

"There was no need," he said finally as he looked back down.

"Time will tell if you speak the truth. And what of the girl?"

Connor hesitated, glancing out at the valley with its glittering water and tall trees. Eagles flew above the tops, soaring on the wind. "I am not sure if I believe her story. It is very strange, and impossible, but she has not offered anybody harm while she's been here. The leader of my people thought her important enough, but I question it."

Achilles raised an eyebrow. "Once again, time will tell."

**Okay, that's another one finished! I hope this chapter was believable. It's more difficult than I remember to write a chapter without a total Mary Sue xD Things certainly have taken a turn for the worse for Shay. Thanks for any feedback/watches/favorites!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everybody! I am so sorry it took me so long to update. For whatever reason, this chapter was extremely difficult for me to write. I think it's the flu I got that has been going around, yuck.**

**I do not own the Assassin's Creed Franchise in any way.**

Chapter 7

Time inched by slowly, the absence of a clock grating on her nerves. One could only stare at the same wall for so long before it became maddening. With nothing to do, she could only contemplate her fate, and of her family. Did anyone notice she was missing? Were her parents alright? The only thing that brought her out of this phase was her meals and bathroom breaks, which were all escorted. It was embarrassing, and the lack of dignity was beginning to become the norm.

She had watched Connor leave the day before, and had not heard him return. He must be going off on some other adventure to save all of human kind. The bitterness of her situation was beginning to sit in as she grew angry. Juno was wrong. There was no reason she was here, simply tossed through time as a joke. Ha ha, very funny, the gods could stop laughing now and send her home. If there was a purpose for her presence here, she wouldn't be locked up in this damn room.

Her attention quickly snapped to the door as she heard the maid outside. Like a starved animal, she rose and tensed until the door swung open, revealing a middle-aged woman carrying a metal tray covered in dishes. The maid seemed to hesitate, watching her warily as she set the tray on the bedside table. The smell wavering off of the food made her mouth water, causing her stomach to rumble expectantly. Pushing the thought of dinner down, she spoke up, "I need to speak to Achilles."

The maid looked rather surprised that she was being spoken to. "I will see what I can do," she said stiffly. With her nose in the air she stalked back out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.

Shay snorted softly and considered just going up to the door and banging on it until the old man came to investigate. Figuring that would do more harm than good, she walked back over to the bed and took the tray off the nightstand. A cut of beef smothered in gravy with a helping of mashed potatoes stared back at her, seducing her with its delicious aroma.

Half way into her meal, there was a scraping outside of her door. Hesitating, she watched as the door swung open and Achilles limped in, leaning heavily on his cane. She had to admit that she was shocked. She did not expect the old man to actually come up here at her request. Or perhaps he felt like being entertained tonight, seeing as he found her so funny. Tilting her head, she set the tray back onto the table.

"Might as well finish your meal so it doesn't go cold," he said roughly, grabbing a wooden chair away from the desk. He dragged it painfully behind him before taking a seat. As his body slowly and stiffly fell into the chair, Shay felt a pang of fear that the older man was coming to the end. He straightened, a pride he had probably held onto from his youth.

Nodding, she picked the tray back up and shoveled some potatoes into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Achilles was not afraid of her, and he made that known as he leaned forward towards her, his weight resting on his elbows. "So, what do you want to talk about?" he watched her with that intimidating stare he always had.

"I do not know what he has told you, but Connor is delirious, Achilles. He is judging me to be something based on clothing. I am not dangerous, and all I wish to do is go home. If you just let me go I will be out of your hair," she said, chewing thoughtfully. The older man was watching her every move, a habit she assumed he had learned in his time as an assassin. Could you ever stop being an assassin? She assumed it was like being in the military, or a cop, you never forgot.

"I am aware that he can be foolish at times," the old man agreed, rubbing the side of his face gently. "However, with how things have been I can understand his caution."

Shay grimaced slightly as she swallowed, "Yes, I can see why he might be careful with the Templars wanting his head and all, but I haven't hurt anyone. I just want to find my way home, and I've told you all I know. Obviously I'm not that dangerous if the Clan Mother asked to see me. Please, Achilles, give me some basic survival skills, and let me go home."

The old man glowered at her, leaning now on his cane for better support. At times she wondered if his stiffness was old age, or if he had been seriously injured in a Templar attack during his service to the brotherhood. She didn't feel brave enough to ask, certain she would only get a gruff rebuke from him. Instead, she leaned back against her pillow, her eyes pleading with him. When he didn't respond to her, she felt her shoulders sag. "I know you have seen what the future holds. The three of us have seen the consequences of Templar rule. Even if I am not meant to go home, I am meant to help you in some way to prevent them from taking over."

"What I have seen is not up for discussion. You appeared here under poor circumstances and you have done little to gain our trust. Simply staying around and doing as you are told does not help you in the least. The assassins can handle this," he said sternly, sitting back.

This approach was not helping at all, and Shay began to feel his interest slipping away. "If you don't let me help, innocent people are going to die!" she snapped, trying a more direct approach to the situation. The surprise was clear on Achilles' face as she all but slammed the tray back onto the table. "I thought the whole point of the brotherhood was to protect the innocent, keep peace, and freewill for the people. All I see is a paranoid group of men on their high horses."

"You do not know a thing about the brotherhood, so I suggest you hush," he snarled, rising stiffly out of the seat.

Shay inwardly groaned as she pressed back into the pillow slightly. "Please, Achilles! Give me a chance while Connor is gone. I do not expect you to train me and treat me like you do him, but please give me a fighting chance! Something bad is going to happen, and I worry about Connor."

The older man was already hobbling toward the door, his back facing her. "If I wanted to kill you all I would have done so already," she added lamely.

"And why do you care so much about the boy?" he asked suspiciously, glancing over his shoulder.

At the question Shay's shoulders only fell further, as if the weight of the world pressed down on them. She did not love him in the least, rather found him quite annoying and stubborn, but she had to admit she had grown fond of him in the weeks she had been here. Even if he was stoic, gruff, and a little straight-forward, he had a sense of charm about him, and she enjoyed his presence. Taking in a deep breath, she answered, "He is a friend, something I don't really have here. He may be a bit of an asshole, but I would feel as sad as you would if something bad were to happen to him."

Achilles seemed to think this over. "I will think about it." With that he closed the door behind him, locking her in. Shay sighed softly, and forced herself to lay on the bed. At least it wasn't a no.

ooooo

The last few nights had been rough, waking up drenched in sweat and shivering like someone had turned the air conditioner on full blast. Achilles had not returned with an answer, and Connor had not returned from his adventure, so she began to fear the worst. A maid came with her meals as usual, escorting her to the restroom when she needed to, and then she was left alone with nothing to distract her. Her dreams played over and over in her head, reliving Connor's death. Why this boy meant so much to her she didn't know, for she hadn't known him that long.

It was true, that he was a friend, but this attachment was beginning to grow dangerous, and Juno seemed to want this to happen. The deeper in she was, the more likely she would stay and fight.

When the door swung open unexpectedly, she bolted up from the bed. Achilles limped in, his dark eyes finding her immediately as he stood in the frame. "Come with me, child," he said, making a motion with his hand.

Curious, she followed him slowly down the stairs, approaching the door that Connor so frequently retreated to whenever he was home and under stress. She had never bothered to go down in fear of disturbing him, or seeing something she wasn't supposed to. Now it seemed Achilles intended to take her down there. He reached up and pushed the door open before descending the wooden stairs that stood not far from it. It was dark save for a few lanterns, a stand in the middle of the room. On one of the walls various portraits hung, writing scrawled up and down, arrows pointing to some.

Tilting her head, she approached it carefully as she read the notes. Templars. She glanced at Achilles to ask him what was going on, but he was already speaking to her. "These are the men Connor fights. These are the Templars he often talks about," he said quietly.

"Are any of these the man he compared me to?" she asked, glancing back to the portraits. None looked to be in the garb of the time era, so she was guessing that it was a no, but she didn't want to be too hasty.

"No, we were hoping you could tell us who he is."

"There are two possibilities. He may be the man I came here with, but that is highly unlikely. The other possibility is that it is a man from the same company my friend worked for. I don't know who he is, though." She turned back to him, walking a few steps away from the wall. "If I could see him I would be able to tell if it was my friend or not."

"Yes, well, we are not sure where he is at this moment. I am still unsure why you think we should trust you."

"I came to you as nothing but skin and bones, sick as a dog, and weak. Would the Templars let one of their own go untreated? Getting into the enemy base sure as hell is not worth that," she pointed out, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm not asking you to treat me like family, just give me a fighting chance. I don't think there is much a chance of me getting back home at this point so I might as well be taught how to survive."

Achilles gave her an odd look. "You want to learn how to fight?" he asked.

"Well, enough to defend myself. I could never be a bad ass assassin but it would be nice to be able to hold my own," she said defensively.

There was an awkward silence between them, making the air heavy and uncomfortable. In no way would she ever be able to hold her own in a way that Connor did, as she had never been athletic. Hiking perhaps was the most she had ever done, preferring to read and stay indoors comfortably. A part of her knew that there would be no surviving this without help, especially now that she was in a world where staying inside wasn't exactly an option. Leaping through trees and climbing up the sides of buildings was not her forte, but she could at least try to fight.

Achilles sighed heavily and jabbed her in the stomach with his cane. "You are going to need to live a less cushioned life, then," he drawled. "Come then, let's start before the boy gets home and puts up a fuss."

Relieved, she followed him towards the stairs. Convincing him had been easier than she thought it would be. He seemed like such a hard ass, but perhaps if he could take Connor in, she would be just another one in the wagon. She paused for a moment, glancing at the wall, until Achilles started calling her name sternly.

ooooo

He couldn't believe this! It wasn't as if he had been gone that long, tracking down Johnson to get revenge for his people, and he came back to see that girl out in the yard, listening to Achilles' instruction. Did Achilles think his accusation a mere joke? It made absolutely no sense to him to let this girl get any stronger. If she chose to betray them all their hard work would quickly be used against them and the Templars would have the upper hand. His mentor had insisted that he knew what he was doing, and much to his dismay, had slipped in that he had taken Connor in when he was young and so far had managed not to screw it up. The humiliation made his face burn as he stomped past them and into the manor.

When he came back out, Achilles motioned for him to come over to their little lesson. Obedient, he walked cautiously over, glancing between the two. The flush in his cheeks had died down, though the anger was still present just beneath the surface. "Connor, come here. You are much younger than I am and more suited for this exercise," his mentor said, gently touching his arm to guide him in front of Shay.

She looked at him uncertainly, her shoulders hunched in submission as he towered over the both of them. He snorted softly, but looked back to his mentor, waiting for instruction. "I am trying to teach Shay in hand-to-hand combat, but I am not what I used to be. I have told her the steps, but there is nothing like practice. Show her what I am talking about."

Suppressing a protest, the young man looked back over to the now hesitant girl. Then it surfaced, "Is this necessary? I still do not believe you let her con you into teaching her anything." His tone was sharp, making Shay flinch even though it was not directed towards her.

"Yes, it is. Now, Shay, attack him as I have told you," Achilles directed, pointing his cane at her.

Why did she have to instigate? It was clear that Connor would best her with no effort, but Achilles seemed to encourage this rash course of action. Hesitating, she sized him up and took a few steps to the side. He watched her every movement, preparing himself for what she was going to do, though he wasn't worried about it. As she darted forward and swung, he easily grabbed her arm and brought it around her back, forcing her to her knees.

"Okay! I give up!" she yelped, causing him to release her into the dirt. He straightened and looked back to his mentor with an 'I told you so' look. Achilles only eyed him irritably.

"Again."

Shay groaned softly and rose, dusting herself off as she swung about to face Connor again. He didn't seem fazed, his eyes once again analyzing every move she made. Preparing herself, she lunged and aimed for the kidney this time, since it was really the only part of him she could reach. Gracefully, he moved out of the way and seized her by the shoulders, throwing her to the ground. The young woman coughed violently, spitting out dirt in a disgusting muddy mess. She brought up her arm to wipe at her mouth, thoroughly grossed out by the taste on her tongue.

When she looked up, Connor's back was to her, clearly arguing quietly with Achilles. This was probably the only opportunity she was going to get to surprise him, so she took it. Staggering to her feet, she threw her weight onto him, forcing him to his knees by the sudden impact. Clinging on for dear life as he tried to rise and grab onto her. As he managed to graze her ribs, she laughed from the tickle, her arms now tightly wrapped around his neck to keep from falling off.

Aware of the advantage, he quickly aimed for her ribcage, his long arms no match for her petite body. Cackling, she fell off into the dirt, panting from the lack of air as she scrambled away from him. The two of them only stopped when Achilles cleared his throat, a slight smile on his face.

"You can court later, right now we are focusing on combat techniques," he said matter-of-factly, enjoying the way both of the combatants' faces flushed bright red.

"I was not-" Connor protested, but Achilles held up his hand to quiet him.

"Alright, now, let's have Shay go on the defensive," his mentor said, glancing at the young woman.

Shay gulped as Connor smirked and glanced at her as well. This was not going to end well, she had a feeling.

**Alright, that's it. I know it was kind of a lame filler chapter, but I had to get her back in somehow. Apparently I did not think this through all the way. Next chapter might have some unintended fluffiness. Stay tuned!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks everyone for the favs/reviews/follows! Here is another chapter. We're gonna be out this weekend so I thought I might as well throw it up here while I have the chance. Enjoy!**

**I do not own any part of the Assassin's Creed Franchise**

Chapter 8

The passing year had been less than eventful; seasons had come and gone, and it seemed as if little had improved at the manor. Tension was still high, even if it had ebbed a little, and Connor seemed to slowly accept the fact that she was here to stay. The fact that his people's land was tentatively safe seemed to calm him, but the deaths he witnessed and Lexington and Concord had seemed to put a damper on his mood. He had avoided her at every opportunity he could, but occasionally Achilles forced them to train together. While she wasn't exactly the best in combat, she could adequately defend herself if she had to, and that put her mind at ease.

Now, she was not bothered about hand to hand combat. Instead she was staring across the yard at a pile of hay bales that had been stacked haphazardly. A crudely drawn group of circles stood out in yellow and red paint, looking rather pathetic. Bringing up her left arm, she knocked an arrow onto the string of a traditional bow and drew it back with some difficulty. The pressure of holding the bow out and away from her was tremendous, causing her elbow to fall in slightly as she released the bowstring. The arrow sailed far over the target, the string snapping the tender flesh on the inside of her elbow.

"Gah! Son of a gun!" she cursed loudly, rubbing the tender spot gently. It was an angry red, glaring up at her. "And I missed."

Sighing softly, she stormed past the hay bales, rooting around in the dirt for the last arrow until she came across it. Thankfully it didn't seem damaged, so she rubbed it on her pants and returned to her mark. Placing it along the string, she aimed again, this time hitting it square in the dirt. Unbeknownst to her, Connor had been walking behind her, intending to go speak to the loggers about getting some wood for the manor, when he saw her fail over and over again.

A small smirk came over his face as she cursed and retrieved the last arrow, wiping the dirt off of the tip. Walking up behind her, he tilted his head and looked at the target. "Do you need some help?"

Shay glanced at him in surprise, but shook her head. "No, I can get it. Just watch."

Amused, Connor watched as she lined up and took aim. He immediately noticed the flaws in her posture and stance as she released, once again snapping herself in the arm. Defeated, she went and retrieved her arrow, refusing to look at him as she returned. "Act as if you're going to draw back," he said, watching her take her stance.

"Here, your elbow is in too far. Bring it out a little like this, and turn your body this way," he instructed, gently holding her elbow as he pulled it away from the bow so she wasn't so tucked in. Glancing over her for a moment, he turned her shoulders and tilted her down a little. "You're aiming too high. Remember, the arrow is in the middle of your bow. Try to draw all the way to your cheek before you release."

Shay nodded slowly, securing her arrow to the string as she drew back. It was difficult to draw all the way back to her cheek, but she managed before releasing. The arrow smacked into the bottom part of the target, in the hay bale but outside of the rings. It wasn't perfect, but it was an improvement, and she grinned broadly as she looked back at Connor. "Hey, I hit the bale!" she exclaimed excitedly.

He nodded in agreement, but raised an eyebrow as she raised her hand. "What are you doing?" he asked uncertainly, writing it off as one of her weird moments.

Shay sighed and gave him a look. "Raise your hand out in front of you like I did," she said simply, watching him do so uneasily. Reaching up, she smacked her palm against his. "High-five! It's something we do when we accomplish something in my time."

This woman was so strange sometimes, and it took all he had to avoid giving her a strange look. "I...see..."

"I'm sure you do," she said somewhat sarcastically as she gave him a smile and went to retrieve the arrow.

The young man fell silent, thinking this over as he watched her yank the arrow out of the hay bale, holding it up triumphantly. As she came back, he tilted his head, curious as to why she was shuffling her feet anxiously. "Um...Connor, I know you are going to Boston tomorrow. May I come with you?" she asked, looking up at him.

"No," he said definitively.

"Please, it's important. I can't really describe it, but I feel like something is going to happen," she said quietly, her entire demeanor changing from the previous excitement.

Suppressing a sigh, he looked her over. He didn't detect any deceit, and she seemed timid about the whole thing. "I'm going into a very dangerous place, and I'm not pulling you in with me," he said sternly, shaking his head. "The last thing I need is to have to watch you."

"I can watch myself now. I may not be as strong as you, but I can defend myself. I know how this is going to play out, Connor, and I have to be there," she urged, fidgeting with the arrow in her hands. The last couple of nights she had had nightmares, much like the one when she first came here. In these dreams the light extinguished, with the figure, leaving her and the world in darkness. Years ago, she would have said she didn't believe in fate, but now that all was changed with being stuck here.

The young native frowned, but nodded, "Fine, get ready."

Relieved, she nodded. "Okay, I'll go get my stuff."

ooooo

It took a few days to get to Boston, and the state the city was in was atrocious. Smoke trailed from the roof tops, a ship in the harbor firing its cannons on the hillside. Shay's shoulders slumped as she realized that was where they were heading instead of the city. To just ride into the middle of battle was not her style, but to back out now would convince Connor that she was better left at the homestead. Sucking in her stomach to clench down on the fear, she kicked her gelding into a trot behind Connor's mare, following the path up the hillside.

There Connor dismounted, speaking to a soldier holding a rifle. "I'm looking for Israel Putnam," he said, holding out a slip of paper to the soldier.

"On who's orders?" the soldier demanded.

"Samuel Adams," the young native replied as the soldier snatched the paper from his out stretched hand. The soldier glanced over the paper, though Shay wasn't sure how literate he really was by the way his nose scrunched up and how quickly he glanced back to Connor.

"Follow me," he said simply, heading up the hill.

Connor made a motion to her as he mounted the mare and followed the foot soldier. Anxiety was beginning to set into the pit of her stomach, making her nauseous and dizzy as they headed towards their impending doom on the hill top. The battle of Bunker Hill was an infamous battle, leading to be claimed by the British, who ultimately lost many good men in the fight. Grimacing, she dismounted at the base of the camp, and followed Connor up towards a gentleman, who clearly led these men.

As they crested the hill top, Connor paused, surveying the camp these men held so bravely. His head turned as he heard the cannon ball whizzing towards the hill, his hand coming out to grab Shay's shoulder protectively. It exploded on contact, sending dirt and blood into the air like a murky fountain. Shay yelped, covering her head as Connor pulled her away to safety. "I knew I shouldn't have brought you," he mumbled as she straightened, her face full of fright.

In the wake of the blast, a man shouted, "I rest my case. I'm going back to Bunker Hill. Good day gentlemen!"

Connor grabbed Shay's hand as he dragged her along after the man, never flinching as cannon shrapnel burst around them. "General Putnam!" he called, releasing her from his grip.

"What?" the man turned around, cigar in his mouth.

"I am looking for John Pitcairn. I was told you'd be able to help me find him."

"He's tucked away somewhere in the city with no reason to leave. So long as that ship continues its assault, we'll never flush him out."

"But if the ship was silenced."

"Then poor John might be forced to get off his arse and come forward!"

"I shall fly this flag to signal my success."

"And I shall speak fondly of you at your funeral." The general turned, sticking the cigar in his mouth as he moved away, failing to notice Shay amongst the clamor of war.

Connor stared after him for a moment, gripping the flag in his hand, before he turned and walked towards Shay. Without another word, he grabbed her by the arm and plunked her down firmly behind a barrier made of rubble and torn pieces of wood. "Stay here. I will be right back as soon as I silence the ship," he said rather gently before walking off.

Perhaps this hadn't been such a good idea, and she should have stayed in the safety of her room in the manor. Every spray of dirt covered her in debris, smudging her face with mud and blood. It was relentless, and this was what all of these men were experiencing. When in history class she had dismissed the whole thing as nonsense, something she had to learn to graduate, but now she was coming to appreciate what happened.

As she curled up behind the barrier, flashes of her dream came back to her. Her dark figure was dashing up a hill, oblivious to the danger around him. His movements were like a dance, dodging around soldiers from both sides until he reached the security of the brush. Moments flash by, and he's sneaking around in a pit of snakes he has no business being in. Then, the strike. It felt like an eternity, her eyes tightly clamped shut to ward off the screaming of men in pain.

She screamed as a pair of hands grabbed her, her eyes snapping open to see Connor's strong face inches from hers. "Are you alright?" She knew he was speaking, but couldn't hear him from the ringing in her ears. He tilted her chin up so she was looking at him and repeated himself.

"Y-Yes," she stammered.

"I have to go get Pitcairn, I will be right back," he said.

"Wait, I have to come with you," she insisted, grabbing his arm.

"No, do as I say and stay here," he refused, standing up and leaving before she could say anything else.

_Come on, Shay. You have to get up _she thought to herself as she staggered up, bracing herself on the rubble. Thankfully, she found the air peaceful despite the gunshots that rang out below. The young woman drew herself up and bolted for the side of the hill she had seen Connor disappear over. A few shouts did little to deter her as she slipped in the mud down the slope. As she hit the bottom, she used the momentum to push herself forward down the path.

As she took off her breath began to come in pants, sweat soaking into her shirt underneath the looming sun. She didn't hope to catch up right to his heels, but at least get close so she could watch him. The further she ran the more her hopes diminished on finding him, but the flashes of her dream drove her forward. It wasn't until she came to a fork that she stopped. Helplessly, she looked up both paths, desperate for a giant neon sign that said 'This way, dummy!'

_If only I had a coin to flip_ she thought bitterly, pacing a few steps before hearing a few gunshots to her left. She could only hope that they were gunshots from the redcoats firing at an intruder in their camp, and took off running up the small slope. Taking a sharp right, she nestled herself in the brush the closer she got to the top, watching for any hint Connor might be lurking about. There was no warning as a figure collided with her, sending her stumbling down to the ground. Her mind began to race, screaming at her to get up, as she raked at the ground with her hands in an effort get to her feet.

The figure had been thrown back as well, grabbing onto a tree for support. It was slim, not at all built to fight, and seemed to be weaponless as it staggered forward towards her. On her feet, Shay prepared herself to defend, only to be thrown off guard when her assailant came into full view. It was a young man, lanky and tall, barely out of of the teenage years. His messy mop of black hair curled around his ears, and familiar gray eyes stared out at her.

"S-Shay?!" he exclaimed.

Disappointment quickly welled up in Shay's stomach at realizing that this was not her best friend, but one of his co-workers. Lowering her arms, she stared at him in defeat. "Nathaniel, what are you doing here?" she asked calmly, watching him nervously shift and push his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.

"I came here with my boss after you and Trevor accidentally activated the machine. I'm so glad I found you! We have been searching since we got here. Come on, you must come with me to New York and I can get you home," he said, grabbing out at her arm.

Jerking away, Shay took a few steps back and looked over her shoulder at the path she had been following up the hill. If they had been legitimately searching for her they would have found her. The fact that Connor mentioned seeing them with the Templars made her nervous, her instincts encouraging her to run. Yet she had the chance to go home, and be rid of this responsibility. It sort of felt like betrayal to simply leave the family she had made behind her. She couldn't. She couldn't just leave them to die in this place, and Connor needed her. "No, I have something I have to do first."

Nathaniel watched after her, but didn't say anything, instead taking off away from the calamity brewing on the hilltop. As she reached her destination, she looked around, unable to spot her assassin. Unsure, and not wanting to get caught, she hurried around the left side of the camp, burying herself in the brush to avoid being noticed. A pair of patrolling redcoats passed by the clump of bushes, chattering about something that sounded close to alcohol and women. Rolling her eyes, she peeked out to see Connor perched in a tree positioned above a man on a chestnut war horse. That must be Pitcairn.

In the blink of an eye he was on top of the man, his hidden blade neatly inserted into his neck. The sudden movement caused many of the soldiers to flee like the cowards they really were. A few of the loyal stood their ground, leveling their weapons towards the young assassin. Panicked, Shay began to look for a solution when she saw a few muskets neatly stood up against a tent. Without even thinking she grabbed one. It felt off in her hand, the wooden stock sleek and cold. She had never fired a weapon before, and wasn't even sure if this thing was loaded. If it wasn't she didn't have a clue to make it so.

Going on a prayer, she lifted it, putting the stock against her shoulder like she had seen in the movies. Hah, that probably wasn't the best thing to go off of, but it was all she had. Leveling it, she closed one eye and stared down the barrel, hoping the accuracy of this damn thing wasn't as bad as they made it out to be in history class. Reaching up, she clicked back the hammer before returning her grip to the stock. It was now or nothing, and a million things were going through her mind as she brought it up, aiming at a man raising a hatchet above his head.

Taking in one last breath, she held it and pulled the trigger. The recoil was more powerful than she expected, sending her right onto her butt in the grass. Her shoulder screamed in pain, and would certainly bruise that night, as she sat up, seeing the man had been pegged in the chest. Connor's attention had been immediately drawn to her, his eyes darkening as he fended off the rest of the redcoats. Shay didn't see him bend over Pitcairn as she laid back into the grass. Her breathing was rapid, sweat beading along her skin as she closed her eyes.

Her ticket home was in New York. Now it was just a matter of getting there when the time was right. Even with her eyes closed she could feel Connor's shadow over her from the sudden change in temperature. "What were you doing?" he demanded, staring at her.

Opening her eyes, Shay offered him a smile. "Saving your ungrateful butt," she joked.

Connor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he grabbed her outstretched hand and pulled her up. Shay grunted, clenching her teeth as she jostled her shoulder. "Come on, we must leave," he urged, seeing reinforcements heading over the hill. She nodded and followed him down the back side of the hill, leaving the troops to stare at their dead general.


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks everyone for the reviews/favorites/follows! They are much appreciated. Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. Buying a house kind of takes up your time :P So I hope this makes up for the wait.**

**I do not own any part of the Assassin's Creed franchise.**

Chapter 9

Pitcairn was dead, the Patriots had retreated, and they were back in the illusion of security that lay at the property line of the homestead. The recoil of the rifle had significantly bruised her shoulder, leaving it stiff, achy, and for the most part useless. It gave her too much time to think and stew on what she had learned. The more the knowledge that there was a way home lingering in New York fluttered around in the back of her mind, the more she became secluded from the homestead. She purposely avoided Connor and Achilles for the most part, nestling in the stables with her favorite gelding and a book for hours on end. When Connor had found her hideout, she quickly switched to the river, taking to the branches of the large trees for shelter.

She felt like she needed to tell them, but the voice in the back of her head discouraged her. If something were to go wrong any chance would disappear just as quickly as it appeared. By some chance, when she did run into either of them, she put a smile on her face and simply said she was feeling off and quickly scurry away. Surely it didn't deceive either of them, especially by the look on Connor's face whenever she slipped past him and out into the woods. Now she was tucked away snugly into a v-structured branch of a large tree. The sun beat down pleasantly onto the surface of the river, leaving the water glittering.

Her nose had been buried deeply into Robinson Crusoe, absorbed into the adventure this young man found himself stuck in. Now it was tilted up, her attention focused on the singing of the birds and the gentle rustling of deer grazing on the foliage. Keeping all of this to herself wasn't right, and her conscience was beginning to nag at her the longer she sat in the tree. Sighing softly, she closed the book in time to hear the soft thump of boots against the crunchy grass beneath her. Her gaze traveled to settle lightly on Connor, who was glancing around observantly.

She held her breath, waiting to see if he noticed her camped out this high. Of course, the assassin glanced skyward, catching sight of her nestled in the leaves with yet another book. Wrinkling his nose, he spoke, "Why have you been avoiding me?"

Letting out her breath slowly, Shay grimaced and swung her legs to hang over the side of the branch. "My mind has been occupied," she answered lamely, looking down at the ground as she spoke.

Suspicious as ever, the assassin was in the tree within moments, crouched not far from her. "How is your shoulder?"

Laughing softly, she offered him a smile. "It hurts still, thanks for asking."

"Well, that is what you get for firing a rifle."

"You're lucky it was even loaded."

At that Connor paused, eying her uneasily as he shifted his weight to get more comfortable, his hand reaching out to grasp a tree limb. "You didn't know it was loaded?"

"Nope. I've never shot one of those in my life," she said, grinning.

Connor mumbled something under his breath she didn't quite catch, but it seemed to be along the lines of a complaint. The grin softened into a simple smile as she glanced back out at the river. You could only run away for so long before you had to face your problems. It was something she was learning slowly, and this was no different as she glanced back to the young assassin. His face was shadowed slightly by his hood and the dappling of the sun through the rows of leaves overhead. It was almost naïve in the way he looked at her.

"Connor, when we were at Boston I ran into someone while I was following you," she started. _Literally ran into_ she thought bitterly as she watched him for a reaction. "He tried to get me to go with him to New York, said that they could get me back home. I am...a little skeptical, but I think we should check it out."

The edge of his lip drooped into a skeptical scowl, but he said nothing for a moment. The silence lingered between them, heavy and tense. "I know it doesn't sound like a good idea, but perhaps this man you saw will be there." Her voice shook.

He seemed to relent, tilting his chin up slightly so she could see his eyes. "We will go to New York and find this man." She wasn't sure if it was hurt, or simply inconvenience that shone in his eyes, but she kept it to herself. He was not a man that shared any emotion but anger freely, and fighting was not what she wanted to do at the moment. Instead she smiled and moved her hand over his gloved one. He noticeable stiffened at the touch, but he did not withdraw.

"Why did you not go with this man you ran into?" he asked suddenly, pulling his hand back.

Shay tilted her head slightly, offering a small smile. "Who else was going to save you?" she asked teasingly, but quickly dropped it at the look on his face. "I couldn't just let you go on your own."

"Why does whether I live or die matter to you? You almost killed me before," he pressed, leaning forward slightly. It made her feel rather uncomfortable how close he was, her breath becoming stale in her chest before she coughed it back out, turning her head.

"Well...just because we didn't get along at first doesn't mean that we can't be friends," she shot back. "There are many who would miss you, you know. Myself included." Admitting that made a weight lift off of her chest, but now she watched him warily, unsure of what his reaction might be. He didn't seem to take it offensively, but he was now watching her intensely. A light shiver ran up her spine as she looked away, face flush with embarrassment, but he didn't seem to notice.

As if oblivious to the young woman's confession, the young assassin tilted his head and sat next to her now on the branch so it creaked under the both of them. "Oh God, Connor! Please get off, you're going to make it break!" she exclaimed, laughing as the end of the branch drooped pathetically, her embarrassment temporarily forgotten.

At this he glared at her, though it was derived of any anger or insult. In light of her confession for fearing for his safety, he found himself returning the emotion. It wasn't the fear of going and finding Templars that made him hesitant about New York, it was the disappointment that might follow for her if she didn't get to go home. He was certain it would crush her, perhaps to the point he wouldn't be able to see her smile again. Huffing softly, he watched her scoot closer to avoid falling off the edge of the branch.

"Seriously, Connor, your mighty assassin weight is going to make me fall off," she teased.

He smirked easily, trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe I want the branch to myself."

"Yes, well I would appreciate it if you would let me get down now, because I prefer not to fall off this branch," she said, looking down at the ground nervously.

"I won't let you fall," he said softly, his arm going around her. His touch sent spikes of warmth through her body, another shiver streaking up her spine in excitement. "You are right, we should get back. Achilles would like us to train anyways."

Shay let out a soft groan as the young assassin easily climbed back down to the ground. She had asked the old man to teach her how to defend herself, but his persistence in keeping in shape and practiced was wearing her down. Considering her life in the 21st century had been rather plush, this was not her idea of relaxation. Turning, she wiggled to the trunk and slid down carefully, the bark scraping her palms as she felt Connor's hands on her back to keep her from falling.

"Thanks," she said quietly once her feet were firmly on the ground.

"Who else is going to save you?" he asked, his eyes teasing. "Come."

Shay watched him for a moment, and offered a small smile before following him back towards the homestead.

ooooo

They had gone to New York on and off over the course of the year, coming up empty handed more often than not. The few leads they did get grew stale, and Shay was beginning to feel more and more defeated. Connor's fear had been well placed as he watched her shoulders droop slowly from frustration and disappointment. When Achilles was not bothering him about training or going out he could be found at her side, trying to coax out that smile. Of course, this subjected the both of them to Achilles' teasing and his constant knowing smirk. It drove Shay crazy the way he talked about young love and rarely let them have a moment's rest.

Now that her time here was coming up on three years, the young woman began to relent, allowing herself to grow comfortable around the young assassin. His company was preferred, and when they were separated for long periods of time she found herself waiting in the courtyard every day until he returned. Sometimes he even returned with a little trinket for her, bringing out the light in her eyes he knew lay underneath the pain. Despite all of this, the thought of her life back home was never far from her mind.

Today Connor was trying to get her excited for the trip to New York, knowing that she was bound to get down and disappointed again when they got there. Not but a few weeks before he had tried to help Norris woo Myriam, and had spoken to Prudence about ideas for a gift. While it had not worked for the poor miner, the young assassin was hoping this would at least lift Shay's mood before they started off. He walked swiftly and cautiously as he approached the manor, his hands behind his back suspiciously. From far off he could see Shay grooming the horses in preparation for the journey. She didn't even look at him as he approached, though he did notice Achilles watching from the window overlooking the paddock.

As his boots crunched on the gravel her attention caught, an eyebrow raising. "Good morning, Connor."

He offered an easy look, stopping not far from her as she moved around the horse's rump to the other side. "Good morning."

When he didn't say anything else she eyed him for a moment, running the curry comb in circles over the horse's glossy summer coat. "Where have you been? Achilles was looking for you not long ago."

The young man cleared his throat slightly, one hand coming out to rub the gelding's muzzle as it bumped into him. "I...I, uh, got you these," he said somewhat bashfully, holding out the wild flowers to her. The small bouquet had various colors dribbled throughout it, purples, reds, blues, and yellows. The flowers were in full bloom and radiant, catching the morning sunlight.

"Oh...thank you, Connor, they're beautiful," she said, surprise evident in her face as she took them from him. "That was very sweet of you." She offered him a smile and gave him a small hug before she put them in the saddle bag, making sure they hung out for the world to see, delicately arranged.

Connor smiled slightly, but let it fade as he watched her move away to finish what she was doing. Her movements were jerky, but deliberate as she finished and tacked up the gelding, her posture hunched. He sighed softly and looked away as Achilles called to the both of them. "Are you two ready to leave?"

"Yes..." Shay answered as she moved to saddle Connor's black mare.

"Good. Now, make sure you don't get yourselves into trouble."

The young assassin knew that there would likely be trouble involved. The rumor that Thomas Hickey was the next man he should be searching for arose, he felt the need to go to New York even more so than before. Looking for him while keeping an eye out for Shay's mysterious friend would kill two birds with one stone, and he could help quell the assassination attempt on George Washington. Even though the young woman had been on his mind often, his mission was also there, and at times overpowered everything else.

"We won't. We should be back soon," he said, helping Shay mount the appaloosa gelding before getting onto his mare. With one look at her, he turned the mare and kicked her into a simple trot out towards the Frontier.

ooooo

The trip to New York had been exhausting, but the city gave her a renewed vigor as she surveyed the bustling activity. It was much like Boston in this time, but it had its own unique traits as well. Hard to believe that the large city it would become started out looking like this. There were no bright lights, giant billboards, or LED signs flashing advertisements. Instead it looked rather drab, and there was definitely less traffic. She had been to New York in the 21st century once, and she did not envy how many people or cars there were in that city.

Once their horses were secured, she followed Connor and another man slowly. They were chatting about something when a disturbance caught their attention. A man was yelling for the redcoats, what looked like bills floating through the air. Counterfeit no doubt, for no man ever denied money. As the man turned and ran, Connor's interested was piqued, and Shay found herself following him closely as he began to search for the man that had fled. The way he tracked seemed super human, and it never ceased to amaze her as he carefully picked his way through streets and homes, all cookie cutter buildings.

"Connor, what are you doing?" she asked as he stopped and knocked at a lone door.

He paused, as if thinking, before turning as if about to leave. She didn't even have time to shout as he took a running start at the door, sending it flying open in a wave of splinters. Her arms came up to shield her face as he calmly asked the man's name. As classy as ever, Connor. Hesitating, she watched the man take off and her assassin roll with the wave, killing the two men before giving chase. _I thought Achilles told us to stay out of trouble_ she thought to herself as she caught a glimpse of the two through the window.

Turning, she followed as quickly as she could through the building and out the back, taking a hard turn as she the tail end of Connor's coat got her attention. This was clearly going to attract attention, and her lungs were beginning to burn as she followed at a distance. It didn't take long for the fit assassin to catch up to Hickey, grabbing him and slamming him up against a building. The interrogation was out of ear shot, but as she drew closer she saw a guard grab the both of them, scolding and asking questions about their little scrap.

"What are the charges?" she heard Connor ask calmly.

"Counterfeiting!" one guard accused, holding out a sack of what she assumed was the counterfeit bills.

"I had nothing to do with that."

"Course not!"

"Listen – there are more important things at stake here. This man is planning to-" No sooner were the words out of his mouth that he was struck across the back of the head, his body falling to the cobblestone heavily. It was as if the whole world stopped, graying out to an old black and white movie. She barely felt herself jolt forward, moving mechanically as fear smashed into her, tainting her senses.

"Connor!" She barely felt the words tear from her throat as she knelt beside him, her left hand going to his cheek, pushing back his hood to examine the damage that had been done. There was a little blood but it looked like it was skin deep, and would leave a nasty bump in the morning. He was unconscious, but she could feel his breath on her other hand as she turned her burning gaze to the guards.

"What was that for?" she snarled, shrugging away hands that tugged at her. The assassin was hauled up, his body limp and heavy against the guards as they pulled him towards the prison.

As she began to go after them another pair of strong hands grabbed her, dragging her struggling form into the shadows of an overhang. "Shay!" the voice hissed. Nathaniel had a hold of her, pulling her back.

"Come with me, we need to get you out of here," he urged.

"What are they going to do to him?!" she snapped, relaxing, though the venom still stained her voice.

"I don't know for sure, but if you come with me we might be able to help him," the young man said, refraining from pulling on her.

"Please, Shay. There's someone you need to see, and we can get you home, and all of this will be over."

Hesitation made her body go rigid as she took one last look at Connor's body. Relenting, she followed him down an alley way and back towards the harbor.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey everybody! Sorry this chapter took so long to get up. I kind of ran out of steam and had to regather myself. Thanks to everyone who has favorited/watched/reviewed. I know that there are so many stories out there, and mine may not be to everyone's taste, so thank you for choosing to give this one a shot and leave your thoughts!**

**I do not own any part of the Assassin's Creed franchise**

Chapter 10

Hesitation marked every step she took as she ducked underneath a low hanging canopy to follow the young man she knew only through her best friend. Her mind raced, regret suffocating her as she thought back to Connor's limp and injured body. She had left him, just like she had left Trevor when she first came here. Tears stung at her eyes as she put her head down to hide them from Nathaniel. He had insisted she come with him, that they could save Connor and get her back home. Isn't that what she wanted? Yet, the thought of home was not as alluring as it had once been. Here she now had someone who mattered to her, and she had just left him there to be taken away to the prison. Yet, she knew deep down he would have wanted her to run, to get away and somewhere safe.

His idea of safe probably wouldn't have been with Nathaniel, but she had little choice now as he practically dragged her down to the dock. The scent of the ocean was strong, lingering heavily on the air. It was a smell she missed, but now her mind was far from that. They approached a large building with few windows. It looked like something the traders would store goods in. Her stomach began to tighten as he directed her through the crowd, his pace never slowing even as he pushed the glasses up his nose.

He seemed nervous, and she began to pick up on that as he reached the doors of the structure. "Come on, in here." He pulled it open and shoved her in, nearly slamming it behind him.

"Nathaniel, where are we? We have to go help Connor," she asked, panting as she looked around uneasily. The entrance room was empty and dark, but an open door frame marked the next room. It was lit, and there were voices echoing from it.

The man said nothing as he grabbed her elbow and steered her towards the other room. Panic swept through her, narrowing her vision slightly as she caught glimpse of several men in the room. It was massive, expanding most of the structure. It was empty for the most part, save for a few tables, chairs, and the lanterns that kept it lit. In one chair a man in his fifties sat, his hands folded together as he leaned his elbows onto a wooden table. He was dressed in normal 21st century attire, a business man with a suit and tie.

Something wasn't right, and now she regretted coming here and trusting Nathaniel. He hadn't budged from behind her as the other men noticed them. One she recognized from the market the day before Connor had accused her of being a Templar. He stood regally in an outfit befitting a military leader. With his tricorne tilted down it obscured most of his face, but she knew him from the outfit. It was unique, and not something most people wore. The hair rose on the back of her neck as the man in the chair rose, his hands clasping behind his back.

Immediately she began to wonder if this was the man Connor had caught glimpse of at the pier. Nathaniel didn't have nearly the strength, cunning, or courage to stand amongst these men as if he belonged here. More follower than leader, he preferred to stand behind and do as told. This man radiated power and wealth as he calmly and coldly walked over to her, looking up and down as if she were a piece of meat. She bristled and took a step back, her gaze flitting around the room in hopes of escape.

"So you are Miss Crowell," he said, his voice surprisingly smooth and light.

As he spoke her name, Shay shrank back away from him with a suspicious stare. "Yes..." she said hesitantly as he raised a brow.

"The assassin will be dealt with shortly, and you will be on your way home. That is what you want, yes?" he asked, glancing back at a corner of the room.

"I-" she hesitated, her mind bogged down with the weight of what was happening. She could go home, just leave, and have it all be over. Her heart skipped a beat, feeling guilty with what she was leaving behind. "I have things I have to attend to first, but yes, I want to go home," she whispered.

"Your parents are very worried about you," the older man said, fixing his tie as he turned away.

She grimaced and looked away. "You have spoken to them personally?" she asked, doubtful as she sidestepped away from him, remaining as vigilant as possible in the dim room.

"No, I have," another voice echoed, causing her attention to snap to the dark corner the man had glanced at earlier. Her body immediately went rigid in disbelief as a young man walked forward, a towel in his hands as he rubbed them dry. He stood over her by a few inches with his dirty blonde mop of hair in his blue eyes. He was every bit the stereotypical geek she had known.

"They think you've been lost in the woods you normally hike in, and they have had the sheriff's office looking through hell and high water for you. You need to go home to them," he said, placing the towel on the desk.

"Trevor...you...you're," she stuttered as she took a step forward.

Was he merely an illusion? Her mind had to be playing tricks on her in the low light as he shuffled some things around and put them in an organized pile like he always did. It had always amused her that mess was something he absolutely could not tolerate, especially in his office and work area. Heaven forbid a pen be put out of place. Yet he seemed solid as he straightened back up and fixed his gaze back onto her softly.

He didn't budge as she ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck gratefully. Tears welled up in her eyes, driven back only by her pride as his arms returned the hug. They made her feel secure, shielding her from the world.

"How? I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"They found me lying in the road and nursed me back to health. Don't be sorry, I would want you to stay safe no matter what happened to me," he assured her softly. He drew back, holding her at arm's length away so he could see her in the lantern light.

"Why didn't you come find me? I thought you were gone," she asked, her voice holding that edge it usually did when she was bossing him around.

He smiled slightly and shook his head. "I did find you, I just chose not to see you. You were safe, and I didn't want to jeopardize that."

"Trev, we need to save Connor; he is innocent," she whispered hurriedly, glancing at the man standing not far from them. His stare scrutinized every movement, every whispered word, and it made her feel vulnerable.

"I'm sorry, Shay, but his fate has been decided. We're going to get you home to your parents and you can forget about this whole thing," he denied, shaking his head again as he looked at her sadly.

"What? You would send an innocent man to his death?" she growled, stepping back from him now in anger.

"Innocent? He has killed, Shay, for a cause that supports chaos," he answered simply, putting up his hands as she pulled back.

"He would have saved you if he had found you. You cannot tell me you believe the Templars." Defiant, just as she had always been. Trevor was her best friend, and they had been through a lot, but Connor had saved her life. She at least owed him that if nothing else. "Please, at least let me go."

She saw a flicker of hesitation in his face, giving her a sense of hope that she could possibly get out of here. "And you believe in the cause of the Assassins? You would have the world destroyed?" he asked doubtfully.

"No, I believe that everyone deserves to be free to make their own decisions. I have seen the world of the Templars, and it is a disaster," she replied softly, frowning.

"Enough!" the older man snapped, walking forward. "There will be no more discussion. The assassin will be taken care of, and you will be on your way home by sunset tomorrow. Trevor, take her to her room."

Grimly, her friend nodded and took her by the arm. His grip was warm, confident and directing but not harsh in the slightest as he directed her towards another door frame that was barely visible in the dim light. There was no room for arguing as he pulled her along in the heavy silence. What had happened to him? Her friend was here, but at the same time he was not. He was different...cold and unforgiving.

"What happened?" she asked quietly, staring up at him.

"What do you mean?"

"What was so awful that you would send someone to their death? This is not you, and I don't understand why you're acting like this."

With that he turned around harshly, causing her to bump into him. "What happened?" he hissed, straightening. "I was left for dead in a road, and saved by a group of men who treat me like I am part of their group. Why would I turn my back on them when I owe them my life?"

"You are asking the same of me! Connor saved my life, and I will not just give up on him like you want me to," she growled.

"Why are you so obsessed with this assassin? You have known him only a fraction of the course of our friendship and yet you defend him to the end. I watched you, I see the way you are completely enamored," he snapped. Why was he being so defensive? It made her balk, unsure of what to say. Enamored was a bit much, but she had to admit that she felt an attachment to Connor that she didn't feel with Trevor.

"Is that why you want him dead?" she asked calmly now, glaring at him.

"What? Please, Shay, that is ridiculous. I do not want the man dead, I simply want what is best for our brotherhood," he scoffed, dismissing her claims with a wave of his hand.

"Well, I can't think of another reason. Him not saving you is a crap excuse," she said stiffly as they stopped outside another door.

"I don't want to have this fight with you before you go home. Once you get home and settled you will forget all about him and you can continue on with your life. I will be right behind you, and before you know it everything will be normal." With that he opened the door and gently pulled her in.

It was not particularly splendid, with a small table and bed up against the wall. The sun was beginning to set, purples, reds, and golds filtering in through the small window. Unfortunately it was too high up for her to climb out of, but low enough to let in sufficient light. Prison is what this room screamed. She glanced back at him, her gaze searching his face for at least a hint that everything was going to be alright.

He sighed and offered her a small smile, bringing her into a tense hug. "I'm so glad you're okay, Shay. I was so worried that I wouldn't see you again," he said quietly, giving her a gentle squeeze. "Get some rest and I will see you in the morning."

She forced down a content sigh as he brushed her cheek with his knuckles. There was still some comfort in knowing that he was alive and here. The little voice in the back of her head told her that everything would be alright, but she felt herself growing hesitant. With a small smile he left, securing the door firmly behind him. With him went her resolve as she sank onto the bed, her face in her hands as she allowed the tears to finally come. They streamed hot down her face as a sob made her body shudder in grief and uncertainty.

Crying was not going to help Connor in the least bit, but it felt good to just let it all go. It cleared her mind as she lay back onto the bed,curling up into a ball. She needed to find a way out of here and get to Achilles. He would know what to do.

ooooo

She slept through most of the day, stirring to pace and eat, but not much else. The only window lingered impossibly high above, taunting her with its presence. Trevor had made several attempts to talk to her, but each was met with the cold shoulder and a perfected glower. He shook it off, knowing that she would eventually be back with her family and this whole thing would blow over.

The day passed slowly until he showed back up again, this time forcing her off the cot and out into the hallway. "Here, you're going to want to put these on," he said, his tone strict and unyielding. Glancing down, she saw he was holding out a set of clothes from their time.

She was eager for a sense of normalcy, so she quickly did as told when his back was turned. They felt normal, the jeans hugging her hips, the shirt draped lightly over her torso. She wouldn't be able to wear these outside of the warehouse, but it felt encouraging to have something familiar to her. It was lost quickly as he urged her down the hall way out into the main room. A metal plate lay flat on the ground with some wires trickling up and out a window.

Suspiciously, she glanced around and found only the men from their time. "Trevor, you have to listen," she spoke, a final plea.

He shook his head as he gently steered her up onto the plate. "I'm sorry, Shay, but this has to be done. I will see you in a bit," he brushed aside her plea as if it were nothing. "This will put you about a week after you left right off the trail you usually go hiking on. Story is that you were hiking and went missing."

"And how is that going to be plausible? My clothes are brand new," she pointed out, glaring at him.

"Well, you're thinner than when you left so that won't be much of an issue. You best figure something out, because no one is going to believe you if you don't," he said icily, fixing her with a look as he pulled out a device similar to the size of a smart phone. With his thumb he drew a cross and punched something in.

"I will see you soon," he said gently, pressing the button right as she went to step off the large disc.

There was no warning as a bright light blotched her vision, her ears ringing unbearably as she hunched over. There was no physical pain, merely the loss of all sense and nausea as she clamped her hands over her ears and shut her eyes. A buzzing sensation shot through her limbs, up her neck and into her jaw as she felt herself stumble forward.

Her legs began to tremble as she fell to her knees, her stomach emptying its contents onto the forest floor. Weak and cold, she began to shiver. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the brightness of the forest. The trees dripped with the recent rain, their leaves drooping under the weight. Evergreen needles littered the floor, giving her a cushion as she fell back onto her butt.

It looked as if she had never left, life hadn't moved a bit. Still the same old place. Perhaps they hadn't succeeded, and Connor had managed to make it out alive. If that was the case then she didn't need to find a way back. Shuddering, she glanced over at a pile of mud and considered what Trevor had said. No one would believe her if she told them everything that had happened, and she would be in the same situation as she was back in the colonial era. At least here the mental hospitals weren't a prison per se. Grimacing, she staggered to her feet and proceeded to cover herself in the disgusting mud, the cold goop drying rapidly onto her arms and face. Ick.

Thin, dirty, but otherwise unharmed didn't seem like a good ploy. She was such a wuss as she stood near some black berry bushes that it took a few minutes for her to gather the courage to scratch herself up. With it came whines and pitiful yelps, her eyes welling as she scratched the sensitive skin under her eye. Now it was more believable.

Gathering up her courage, she stumbled through the trees, shivering violently now as the cold sank into her bones. Ahead she could hear laughter and chattering, the sound of civilization. They really hadn't put her far from people, obviously not terribly worried about the risk of someone seeing her materialize out of thin air. Faking a limp, she staggered out the trees and onto the dirt path.

"Help! Please help me!" she cried, trying to sound hoarse and pitiful as she walked up the path. She knew exactly where the trail led, and continued up it calling out. It didn't take long for someone to find her, an emergency blanket draped around her shoulders as a bystander ran to call emergency services.

When the police came, she suddenly became wary. The uniforms were not standard, the tactical belt held a gun, some pepper spray, a nightstick, but the presence of a cross patched onto the shoulder made her nervous. "Is there a problem, ma'am?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Huh? Oh...um...no, nothing officer," she stuttered, shaking her head as she stepped up into the ambulance. "I need to call my parents."

"Yes, I radioed my station to call them. We've been looking for you since last week, and they're very relieved to know you're okay. They will see you at the hospital," he said matter-of-factly, watching her for a moment before the ambulance doors were shut.

It then occurred to her, the bystander had _ran_ all the way to a park station to call for emergency. The officer had _radioed _the station to call her parents. None of the bystanders had had a mobile phone. One she could see, not everybody had a phone, but all of them? There had been at least four or five people. Frowning, she looked away as the paramedic inserted an IV into her arm to supply her with fluids.

She remained silent the rest of the ride, ignoring the paramedic's questions until he finally gave up and began filling out his own report. The ambulance swayed back and forth, but the ride was not bumpy or jolting like she expected it to be, and they arrived in short time to the hospital. She was grateful that the hospital was in the town her parents lived in, so it would be a short ride home. It wouldn't take long to discharge her, right?

Her mother met the gurney at the doors to the emergency room, tears streaming down her face as they walked into the hospital. Alarm and fear crept up her spine as the same cross glared down at her from the front of the building, following her into the hallways of the hospital emergency wing. The red symbol stood out, and now she began to fear the worst.

"Shay, we've been so worried about you!" her mother cried, squeezing her hand. "What happened?"

The young woman bit the inside of her cheek lightly as she watched the doctors walk into the room, taking vitals and looking her over. "I got cocky and strayed from the trail," she lied. "I got farther and farther away until I realized I wasn't heading where I thought I was. By that time it was too late. I was lost."

Her father loomed not far behind her mother, her younger brother at his side. Something wasn't right. Impatiently, she shrugged off a nurse that had come to cut off her clothes.

"I'm not injured. I'm just hungry, and thirsty," she grumbled.

"I agree. A little banged up and dehydrated, but not too worse for wear," the doctor said. "I suggest you stay the night for watch."

"No, that isn't necessary. I want to go home," she said defiantly.

"Shay, if the doctor suggests it-" her mother started.

"No!" she snapped, pulling the IV from her arm with a hiss of pain. Immediately she pressed her thumb to the hole, stemming the flow of blood that dripped down her forearm. "I am fine, I really would like to go home, and I legally don't have to stay here."

Her mother glanced uneasily at her father, but nodded. After she was formally discharged, the drive home took mere minutes. As soon as the car stopped she was out and up the front stairs, into the living room. Her shoes were kicked off only in consideration of her mother's constant cleaning and how she would be in trouble if she dragged mud all over the place. Without another thought she tore up the stairs to the second floor.

"Shay! What are you doing?!" her mother cried out horrified as she casually jogged into her brother's bedroom and began tearing apart the closet.

"I need a history book, right now!" Shay demanded, stopping when she saw the insignia in her brother's closet, sitting on the top shelf. "What is that?!"

"Shay, what is wrong with you? Your brother's induction into the brotherhood is tomorrow," her mother said, now mortified that her daughter was acting strange.

"History book!" Shay exclaimed as her brother eyed her angrily.

"Top shelf of the bookcase," he said, grumbling as he unceremoniously shoved his things back into the closet.

Snatching it off the shelf, Shay immediately threw it on the bed and began to thumb through it. "I don't understand what is going on with you," her mother huffed, watching worriedly.

"Colonial...colonial...Washington," Shay mumbled to herself as she flipped through the book, nearly tearing the thin pages in her haste. Finally she found what she was looking for, stopping at the passage about George Washington.

_In 1778 at the Battle of Monmouth, George Washington was killed when the British forces overwhelmed his command. After the retreat Charles Lee was assigned leader of the remaining tattered forces._

"Oh no...Connor...They killed Connor."

**That's it! I know it was a long wait and I thank everyone for being so patient and I hope this still interests everyone. Time to find a way back next chapter! I promise it won't take nearly this long.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!**

**I do not own any part of the Assassin Creed franchise.**

Chapter 11

Dread filled her, her chest aching as she rested her hand over the passage of Washington's murder, the words glaring up at her between her fingers. The Templars won; the emblem was everywhere it could possibly be as a stark reminder that the powerful get whatever they want. Then a sense of grief tightened her throat at the thought that the assassin could perish from something other than old age. He was an assassin! They weren't supposed to be killed, right? Achilles trained him to survive. Bowing her head over the book, she momentarily ignored the constant questions coming out of her mother's mouth.

The edges of her eyes burned with the grief of mourning a man she had come to appreciate. Three years they had lived in the homestead, merely tolerating each other at first. With the ups and downs she had found herself growing closer to him, eagerly anticipating their time together. She couldn't speak for him, but between the episodes of homesickness she found herself wanting to be close to him. Her mind began to race, her heart beating rapidly as she straightened slowly. _I need to keep face, try to be what I am supposed to be here_.

"Nothing, I'm sorry," she said quietly, closing the book gently. "I was out there long enough, I feel extremely disoriented. I am so proud of you, Jack. Where is the ceremony being held again?" She turned to face her brother's suspicious look.

"Um...it's on the fifth floor of the building Trevor works in," he said slowly.

Her mother leaned against the door frame, distraught by her daughter's sudden wild behavior. "Perhaps it would be best if took a shower and went to bed," her mother suggested softly.

A hot shower would be nice, something she hadn't experienced in a long time. Bath water seemed to cool quickly when you were desperately trying to heat up a couple more gallons. "I think that is a good idea," she agreed. "Do you mind if I borrow this?"

Jack wrinkled his nose, but shook his head. "I'm not sure since when you were interested in history, but I suppose."

He looked just like the brother she left behind; tall, rail thin, and with a mop of brown hair. Although when she had left it had hung in his eyes, making her compare him to a Shetland Sheepdog. Now it was buzz cut, left with enough to run her fingers through, but not much else. This must be the requirements for the Templars now.

Nodding to him, she walked into her room next door and set it tentatively on the bed. Her old room looked the exact same, and devoid of any Templar crosses. That was at least some relief to her as she selected some clothes out of the closet to change into. Unfortunately for her parents' water bill, she took a good hour long hot shower, enjoying this simple luxury. It heat her from the inside out, the ache leaving her bones as she stepped out to dry her hair – another luxury she had taken for granted.

When she was finished she felt refreshed and ready to go. It was going to take a lot of planning to get back to that machine – granted it was in the same place. She wasn't even sure how to run the thing, but it was worth a shot. This was not her life, her world. It was completely alien, and she didn't like it. She would spend the night here and then promptly drive to her apartment and start preparations for the ceremony.

"By the way, dear, I went and fed Dolly. We have been taking very good care of her," her mother's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Oh...thank you. I'm going to go tomorrow, if that's alright," she answered, looking away from her bedroom door.

"That's fine. I really think you should rest, though."

"I'm fine, I promise. A little hungry, but I'm fine," she tried to ease her mother's fears, and it seemed to work a little as her mother's shoulders relaxed.

"I'll go get you some soup."

"Squirrel preferably if you have it."

"What?!"

"I'm just kidding, Mom," she said, offering her mother a slight grin. Squirrel wasn't half bad, but her mother didn't need to know that little detail of her adventure. Her mother rolled her eyes and shuffled her to bed before going to the kitchen to prepare canned soup. It wasn't the best thing, but better than some of the items she had eaten.

Cracking open the book, she immediately began to skim over the important paragraphs. From the gist of it, the Templars had come out after getting a hold of the government, creating a structure laws and control that she had seen in her dreams. No forms of communication other than the landlines in the houses was permitted, giving them full control of the country's communication systems. A landline would be extremely easy to get into, while a cell phone might be more difficult. That would explain why none of the bystanders had a phone on them.

That means that all of the government buildings were run by Templar supports. The police with their patches, the hospital with the emblems all over the place. There must be other places such as the post office, court houses, and etc. that had this problem. Now that she thought about it, there wasn't much in the way of technology. She didn't see the desktop that her father usually had sitting in the living room. There was a television, the only means other than print to get news information.

Very sneaky, Templars, very sneaky. Controlling information was a good way to indoctrinate your citizens. It wasn't likely that there was anyone out there trying to sneak information to the masses over the public broadcasting system. What did this mean for television shows? She didn't really want to find out, and instead continued to skim over the book. Instances of rebellion stood out, and she made mental notes that this was probably the assassin organization trying to overthrow the Templar organization.

Connor's death wouldn't mean the end of the assassin brotherhood, it would merely mean a set back for them. How did Achilles deal with the turn of events? He didn't seem to be a man who openly mourned someone, but kept it to himself. Yet, he was close to Connor, and treated him almost like a son.

Tapping her finger against her bottom lip, she flipped to more recent events. The passages were relatively the same, listing wars they had been in. It wasn't of much interest to her, but she did absorb what she could to blend in.

She glanced up as her mother brought in a steaming bowl of alphabet soup, one of her favorites. _Well, at least the current me has good tastes_ she mused to herself as she began to carefully spoon the soup into her mouth. It took everything she had to keep from shoveling it in like a cave woman. Was that how her mother expected her to eat?

"I know you must be tired, but we've been so worried about you. Please, tell me what happened," her mother urged, pulling up a chair.

Crap. It was so much easier to lie to Connor and Achilles when they first met. This was her own mother, and it was difficult to suppress the truth. "I went hiking, and decided not to take Dolly with me because there was a forecast of rain. I strayed from the path because I thought I knew the area well enough. I ended up getting lost, and the more I tried to find my way back the worse it got," she said between spoonfuls.

"I had plenty of water, but the food was more difficult. I mostly ate the bars I had in my pack, eating only half a one per meal." The story was lame, and very boring, but she couldn't force herself to think of a better one. She was only gone a week here, not three years, so she wouldn't have lost that much weight in that time frame. The half a bar per meal was slightly plausible at least.

"Well, I'm so glad you're okay. Get some rest and we'll talk some more in the morning." Her mother stood up and leaned over, kissing her on the forehead before leaving, closing the door behind her.

Shay sighed in relief as she finished the soup and set the bowl on her desk. Sleep was the last thing on her mind as she began to go through her mental checklist of what she needed to do. This could possibly be the last time she saw her family, and it was a hard decision to make. Grimacing, she reached over to her desk and pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil.

_By the time they read this I will be long gone, but perhaps it will give them some closure. I have to make this right, I can't live a life controlled by the Templars. This is not what Connor and the assassins fought for_ she reasoned with herself as she stared at the blank sheet.

Leaning over, she began to write out her story, including every last detail. Knowing her mother's obsession with the men in her life, she also included some details about Connor. She wanted them to know she would be well taken care of.

ooooo

The note had been hidden in the dresser drawer. She knew that eventually the police would go through her stuff and that someone would find the note. Hopefully it would be only her parents that actually read it, but it was ridiculous enough to where anyone would discount it. The following week she had gone back to her apartment and gathered up her stuff. In a messenger bag she stuffed a jacket and an extra set of clothes with some medical supplies. Taking some zucchini bread she made, she stuffed a knife and rolled it up in tin foil. She was sure there would be metal detectors at the entrance to discourage patrons from bringing in any kind of weapon.

The fact that she had found her pocket knives was baffling, because they didn't seem to like their citizens having anything that wasn't vital to survival. At the end she slipped a small point-and-shoot camera into the side pocket. This was she would be less suspicious. After all, who doesn't want to document their brother getting into the Templar society?

Forcing herself not to gag at the thought, she walked over to her adopted shelter dog lying quietly on her mat. The German Shepherd/Chow Chow mix looked up, wagging her tail gently as she yawned. "You're such a good girl," the young woman said gently, rubbing the dog in between the ears. "I wish I could bring you with me, but you will be much happier here, and I know Mom will take great care of you."

The dog mix whined softly, shoving her muzzle underneath her owner's hand. The cold wet nose made Shay laugh softly, scratching again behind the ears and down for a lovely belly rub. "I love you, be good."

With that, she turned and quickly walked out of the apartment. The mix's whines and howls were too much for her to bear, knowing that her best friend would be left behind. Unfortunately the risks of taking her were too great, and here she would live to an old age. On second thought her mother would probably kill the dog with obesity. Grimacing, she locked the door and quickly headed to her car.

When she rolled up to the building, Shay was surprised at how many people there were. It was not a small ceremony, with a few dozen families gathered to watch their loved ones become inducted into this controlling society. Somewhere inside her family had gained their seats and were eagerly waiting. The line was enormous, and it took a good twenty minutes to get inside and to the metal detector. Above the line was a board listed with prohibited items, one of which she knew was hidden deep within her bag.

Without a doubt the detector went off, prompting a search of her bag. When nothing but a camera and zucchini bread came up, they let her through and gave her directions to the fifth floor. Sighing with relief, she went up to the fifth floor as if her purpose here was legit.

The fifth floor was pretty straight forward, nothing but a hallway and multiple doors on either side. The door to the presentation room was propped open, rows of chairs lining the perimeter. There was little conversation, but what was there was pleasant. The Templar emblem was plastered on the wall over a small stage, a podium placed in the center. In the front row she recognized her parents, and sighed softly. "I'm so sorry," she whispered as she headed further down the hall.

The lack of personnel kind of surprised her, and it took little effort to get into an elevator hidden in the corner at the end. With some caution, and dodging around scientists, she punched the button for the fifteenth floor. If she remembered correctly that was where they had been keeping and working on the behemoth of a machine. Holding her breath, she watched the numbers tick by, never stopping until it reached her destination.

That would have been extremely awkward had some personnel gotten in with her. She calmly walked down another stark hallway, the lights dimmed to reduce the reflection off of the white tiled floor. At the sound of footsteps, she immediately ducked into an alcove just in time to have two workers stroll by her. Thankfully their attention was focused on their most recent project. Relaxing, Shay stood and quickly ducked around the corner.

The halls were readily abandoned, probably because of the ceremony that was going on. Surely some of the workers' family members were here today for the occasion. Now that the path was becoming familiar to her, she turned a sharp left, nearing the room that held the machine that would fix all of this.

"Shay!" a sharp voice immediately made her freeze in front of the door she wanted to enter. Turning, she saw her brother standing in the hall, his arms folded across his chest. "What are you doing?"

"Jack," she gasped out, taking a step back.

Templar, he was a Templar now, and she was wary of whether or not to trust him. "Jack, what are you doing here?"

"I saw you continue down past the presentation room so I followed you. What are you doing up here? I really don't want to report you to the guards, but you're jeopardizing my induction, and you've been acting strange this last week," he pressed, glancing over his shoulder to ensure there was no one else there.

"I know, I'm so sorry. This is not our world, this is one without freedom. Inside this room is a machine that transports objects back into the past, and that's where I've been this whole time. The Templars killed someone important to me, and now the world has changed," she explained, grimacing as he frowned.

"That is ridiculous."

"I know! I know... But you have to believe me. Your books are wrong; George Washington is supposed to live, and he becomes the first president of the United States."

"George Washington is that special someone to you?" her brother asked, mortified as an immature disgusted look crossed his face.

"Oh lord, no!" she exclaimed, cracking a small laugh. "He's way too old for me, thanks Jack. No, it's a young man about my age, and he works with a society that is against everything the Templars stand for. I need to get back and save him, or the world will begin to fall apart. Please, just cover for me." Her voice was now tinged with a plea.

He was still her brother, and she loved him to death. At the mention of another organization recognition hinted with suspicion crossed his features. "You're with the terrorist group?" he asked, surprise evident.

"They are not terrorists," she defended, glaring at him.

"They blow up buildings and innocent civilians!"

"Don't be stupid. That is what the Templar society wants you to think. I cannot believe the Assassins would blow up innocents, considering the fact that the innocents are who they fight for!" Venom snaked through every word, flecked with disbelief. How he could believe that garbage? It enraged her that he wasn't using the good sense he was born with.

"That sounds like something every terrorist organization tells themselves to take away the lack of morality their plans have," he growled, peering at her now with distaste.

"Think whatever you want, but I need to get in that room and go back. I am not your Shay, and I don't think I could ever live in a world like this. You're supposed to be a car enthusiast, a cell phone junkie, and a total dweeb," she growled back, causing him to lift his eyebrows.

"What is a cell phone?"

"Ugh, never mind. Something you will never want to let go of once you get your grimy hands on one."

"And what am I supposed to tell Mom and Dad? That their daughter is a terrorist?"

"I'm not a terrorist. Tell them the truth if you have to, but out the reach of listening ears. Take good care of them, because I won't be able to. I don't think I'll be able to come back to our time, and this will be hard for them. I wrote a note and stuck in my dresser at their house," she responded, glancing back to the door beside her.

"They won't believe it."

"Then that is their choice. It won't matter anyways when I fix all of this." She went to open the door but stopped.

Leaving home is never easy, and it takes a strong heart to step away from the nostalgia and the memories. This is what she needed to do, she needed to set things right in the world so that her brother would live a long happy and free life. "I will see you again," she said softly, glancing at him sadly.

"Until then," he returned quietly. "Do it quickly, or I won't be able to cover for you."

"Thank you."

"Oh, and one more thing, Shay. If he doesn't take good care of you I will come back and find him."

At that a small smile slipped across her lips. "I'll let him know."

With that she slipped inside of the room. It was dark at first, but the motion activated lights kicked on, illuminating the bright white room into a blinding mess. The machine stood, lights on the outside pulsing softly. It looked like something out of a 70's sci-fi film. Stepping towards it, she looked at the panel on the outside.

What day did she leave? Think. June 28, 1776. She turned the dial to set her back around five in the morning. Surely they wouldn't lead him to hang before the sun was up. Glancing back at the door, she gave a soft mourning sigh before she stepped inside. The giant red button glared out at her, begging her to push it. With a deep breath, she did, and then everything went white.

ooooo

The sun hadn't come up yet, but the sky was beginning to leak in hints of light blue. Her head began to rage in a headache as she heard a soft nicker before a pair of velvety lips nibbled at her arm. Ugh. Rolling over, she forced herself onto her hands and knees before she vomited into the grass. The large appaloosa gelding took a few steps back, snorting disdainfully at the mess she had made.

"Boy, am I glad to see you. How did you even find me? It doesn't really matter I guess, but we need to find a camp where everyone is asleep and take their clothes," she said, standing up slowly. She wouldn't be able to get far in these clothes, and she recognized the path nearby as the one that led into Boston. Walking alongside it slowly, she nursed her headache by pinching her neck behind her ears. It eased some of the tension but not by much, and the gelding didn't help as he continuously snorted in her ear.

Thankfully they strayed on a camp not too far along, and within moments she had a dress and pantyhose on. The shoes were extremely painful to fit into, being a size too small, but she forced them and sucked it up. Adjusting her messenger bag, she nibbled on some of the zucchini bread as they continued on.

It took a few hours, as she suspected, and by now the sun shone bright, the inhabitants of Boston bustling around merrily. Boys on the street corner shouted news about the hanging this morning. "Come and see it! Today a traitor hangs!" one shouted nearby.

"Um, excuse me, sir. Where is this hanging going to be held?" she asked, hiding the pack behind her back.

"Right in the gallows, miss, by the court house," he answered, tipping his hat.

"Thank you, sir," she said softly. Hitching the gelding to a pole to keep him from bolting away, she quickly scurried into the bustle. A crowd had already gathered, men, women, and children alike. A time when it was acceptable for your children to go to a public execution.

Where was Connor? She looked around carefully and saw Achilles in the middle of the crowd, crouched forward as the women in front of his shouted. Bingo. She carefully stowed her messenger bag in a tree and retrieved one of the knives from the front pouch. With it clasped securely in her hand, she made her way over to the old mentor. It was beginning to rain, appropriate for the occasion.

"Girl, where have you been? And what are you doing dressed like that?" he hissed, hobbling to the side to make room for her..

"It's a long story, Achilles. I'll tell you more when we're out of here. Where is Connor at?" she whispered, glancing around.

"They're bringing him. At the signal we're going to rescue him and get him out of here. I need you to go stand closer to the gallows," he whispered back. "I will meet you over there shortly."

Nodding slowly, she slipped away, trying to keep out of everyone's way and as inconspicuous as possible. She waited quietly near the gallows as she watched Connor being dragged out. People were spitting on him, one woman going so far as to smack him across the face. Shay cringed inwardly as Achilles pushed the woman out of his way, seemingly yelling at Connor for his crime. Connor seemed to growl something back as he was dragged forward.

This was it, this must be where time was corrupted. Biting the inside of her cheek out of nervous habit, she tensed until Achilles appeared at her side. "Now, when you hear the whistle, I'm going to cut him down. Cut the ties at his hands as soon as he hits the ground."

She glanced at him curiously, but nodded. He was the old mentor, he knew what he was doing. Well, at least that's what she kept telling herself to reassure herself that this was all going to go as planned. For now she was stuck listening to Charles Lee drone on and on about Connor's crime. Sleeze bag. Gritting her teeth impatiently, she tensed as the lever was released. A sharp whistle pierced the air, giving her the okay to leap forward. Achilles had him down in moments, and her knife made quick work of the rope binding his hands as she pulled the bag off of his head.

She could see how disoriented he was as he stumbled up. "Must...stop Hickey," he gasped, pushing away from them as Achilles shoved the tomahawk into his hands.

"Go!" the old mentor shouted as his young student took off.

"Go after him, I will eventually get there," Achilles said, hobbling back towards the crowd.

Shay immediately followed, push people out of her way as she desperately tried to follow in Connor's footsteps. Her knife came out, taking one soldier's legs out from underneath him. It was not a life threatening wound, but disabled him enough to keep Connor safe, and that was what mattered to her. As she approached, it seemed Connor had Hickey down within moments, effortless and almost elegant. He was an assassin after all. Words were exchanged, and then the Templar lay dead on the cobblestones. She reached him as the patriots leveled their rifles, taking steady aim dead at his chest.

"At ease! At ease!" a familiar voice shouted not far off. "I said lower your goddamn guns. This man's a hero!" General Putnam strolled leisurely down the steps, his gaze falling to Hickey's lifeless body lying at the foot of the steps.

"The General can be so stubborn sometimes. Piffle, he said, when we warned him something like this would happen! Piffle!" He took aim at Hickey's body, giving it a sound kick that made Shay cringe.

She reached out to Connor as he stopped the General. "He wanted to kill the Commander. Nearly killed you as well. He was a scoundrel."

"But still a man," Connor defended. This is what made her realize part of why she began to feel affection for the young assassin. Even if you tried to murder him, tried to kill someone he felt was important, he still gave you respect after your death.

"Hmph, you're nothing if not consistent," Putnam scoffed, sticking his cigar in his mouth.

"Where is Washington? I need to speak with him," Connor urged, eying the General.

"Bundled off as soon as your execution went sideways. He's likely on his way back to Philadelphia by now."

"Then so am I." With that Connor turned directly around, barely noticing her as he walked past.

"Something wrong?"

"He is still in danger. Hickey did not act alone." The young assassin continued walking, headed towards Achilles, who stood at the end of the street.

Perplexed at having been totally ignored, Shay hurried to catch up with him. Then it came to her; she had only been gone the length of his prison stay. She truly never left in this time, so to him it was as if she had been here all along. Her head began to ache again as she tried to sort out the time shift in her mind, only to come up empty handed as they approached the old mentor. Achilles tilted his head slightly, leaning on his cane for support. "Well, we should get back to the inn. You both have some explaining to do."

"She was not with you?" Connor asked, glancing over at Shay.

"No, I thought she was with you, but that was not the case. Now come."

"Connor," Shay said softly as they walked side-by-side after Achilles.

Wordlessly he turned his head to look at her. He was so beat up, dried blood along the side of his face with a variety of bruises. Some looked rather fresh while others at least a week old. It was almost painful to look at him, and the misery he had been through in that rat hole. It made her realize that life is fragile and you can lose those you care about when you least expect it.

"I'm glad you're okay," she said, looking away some what bashfully.

He offered her a puzzled look but nodded slightly. "I'm glad you are fine as well," he offered, somewhat surprised when she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Come on you two!" Achilles called, looking back at them expectantly.

Shay sighed softly. "We're coming!"

She could have sworn she heard the old man laugh.

**Thanks for reading this chapter! I hope you enjoyed it :) I have some fluff planned for next chapter, so keep on the look out for it!**


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